


Chasing the Spotlight

by holymountain



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: F/F, the pop star / bodyguard au that no one asked for (but hopefully secretly wanted)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2019-11-05 21:31:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17926718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holymountain/pseuds/holymountain
Summary: Adora has been training to be a bodyguard her whole life. Her new client might be the only thing she isn't ready for.(Or: Catra is the teen pop sensation that's gripping the nation. She just wished her life wasn't so boring.)





	1. A Good Fit

"I assure you, despite her age, Adora is one of our best agents. She's been at the top of her class since she came here."

"From the exam results you've shown me, I can hardly disagree. And we actually see her youth as a plus. Catra has a...bit of a rebellious streak, shall we say. She has a tendency to leave her bodyguards behind. We were hoping she might be more amenable to someone closer to her own age."

Angella nodded. “I’m sure she will like Adora. Her past clients have only had kind things to say about her – I’d be happy to put you in contact with some of them if you so desire.”

Ms. Weaver waved her hand. “No need. I will talk to her myself.”

“Of course, Ms. Weaver. She’s in a sparring session right now, actually; a perfect time for you to see her capabilities.”

At the other woman’s nod, Angella guided Ms. Weaver through the halls of Brightmoon Security. It was a little unorthodox to bring a prospective client into the training facilities, but since this particular prospective client was the manager of one of the biggest rising stars in the music industry, she was more than willing to make an exception. It was also an exception she’d made before with Adora; the easiest way to assuage a client’s concerns about hiring a nineteen year old was to show that nineteen year old overpower trained bodyguards older and stronger than her.

Faint sounds of exertion grew louder as they rounded a corner and entered the training room. Adora and her opponents looked over briefly; seeing Angella nod, they resumed their fight. The blonde stood across from a black woman with blue hair and a mustachioed man with a glint in his eye. He moved first, darting across the floor with surprising speed to throw a punch at Adora’s face. She blocked it with a quick arm movement, and the two exchanged a series of jabs almost too fast to follow. Suddenly, Adora stepped back, ducking under a punch, and lashed out with a kick that knocked her opponent to the floor. Before she could press her advantage, however, the other combatant entered the fray, sweeping Adora’s legs out from under her. She caught herself acrobatically, and the fight continued.

“She’s sparring with Mermista and Sea Hawk, two of our more experienced agents,” Angella told Ms. Weaver. “They’re also available, of course, but they’re generally used in more espionage-focused scenarios. They’re quite talented performers. As you can see, however, they’re no slouches in combat.”

Ms. Weaver nodded. It was hard to discern her emotions; she hid her face behind a crimson mask at all times, and no one knew what she looked like beneath it. In fact, her mask and somewhat foreboding aura had become part of the mythos surrounding Catra. Everyone wanted to know more about the mysterious pop star and her sinister manager.

Dodging another blow from Sea Hawk, who had quickly leapt back to his feet, Adora performed a picture perfect butterfly kick, knocking Mermista to the ground. She then closed the distance between herself and Sea Hawk, flipping him over her shoulder onto Mermista.

“Wonderful,” said Ms. Weaver. “I am most impressed, Angella.”

The president of Brightmoon Security nodded. “I knew you would be.” She raised her voice to project to the rest of the room. “Well fought, agents. Adora, come with me.”

The blonde cadet helped Mermista and Sea Hawk up, then jogged across the room to join them. If she was taken aback by Ms. Weaver’s appearance, she did a good job of hiding it. “What’s up, boss?” she said, accepting a towel from a trainer and wiping sweat off her face.

“Adora, this is—” Angella began, but was quickly cut off by the other woman.

“Adora,” Ms. Weaver said, drawing out the syllables. “I am so pleased to meet you.”

Adora glanced at Angella. It was rare the older woman allowed even minor disrespect like that; she wasn’t nicknamed the Queen of Brightmoon for nothing. Angella shook her head slightly.

“It’s, uh, nice to meet you too, Ms., uh…?”

“Ms. Weaver. I’m told you’re the shining star of this institution.”

Adora flushed and scratched the back of her head sheepishly. “I’m flattered, but I wouldn’t say that.”

“So humble,” murmured Ms. Weaver. “Tell me, Adora, what sort of music do you like?” 

Adora shrugged, nonplussed. “Uh, rock, I guess? I’ve been listening to a lot of Led Zeppelin recently.”

Ms. Weaver chuckled. “How quaint! Surely you must pay attention to more, ah, recent music though, however?”

Seeing Adora’s confused expression, Angella stepped in. “Ms. Weaver is Catra’s manager.”

Adora’s eyes lit up in recognition. “Oh! She’s the teen pop star with the tail, right? I’ve heard a couple of her songs. She’s got a nice voice.”

“She has a lovely voice. And we want her to continue to use it.” At that, Adora looked vaguely alarmed. “Oh, I don’t mean to sound so ominous. But when you have as many fans as Catra does, some of them tend to get a little…too enthusiastic. We’ve had issues in the past with a couple stalkers – things like that. Nothing someone with your capabilities wouldn’t be able to handle, I’m sure.”

“Ms. Weaver is looking for a full time bodyguard for her client,” said Angella. “I recommended you.”

Adora nodded. “Alright. How long would this assignment be for?”

“Indefinite,” replied Ms. Weaver. “Her past few bodyguards have had rather…abbreviated stints, I’m afraid. Catra can be rather temperamental sometimes – you know how these teen stars are.” Adora did not, but she nodded anyway. “I’m hoping that you will last longer.”

“Anything I should know before this – should I meet her or anything?

“No need,” dismissed Ms. Weaver. “Catra trusts my judgment.”

Angella put a hand on Adora’s shoulder. “We’ll talk more about the details of this later. For now, go get cleaned up, and start thinking about what you’ll need to take with you. Ms. Weaver and I are going to finalize a contract.”

Adora saluted. “It was nice to meet you, Ms. Weaver. I look forward to working with you.” With that, she jogged off towards the showers.

“What an _adorable_ girl,” said Ms. Weaver. “I think she’ll be a good fit.”

…

Placing a stack of folded white undershirts into her duffel bag, Adora did a quick scan of her room to see if she had missed anything. She didn’t really have much in the way of personal possessions; since the job often required her to be elsewhere, Brightmoon quarters were generally fairly sparse, and Adora’s was no exception. She lived in a double with another agent, Perfuma, who had left on a weeklong assignment a couple days ago. (Perfuma’s side of the room, incidentally, was one of the more decorated places in Brightmoon, sporting a few vibrant tapestries and seven plants – each had a name, and Adora had promised to water them and give them gentle verbal encouragement every night while Perfuma was away.)

Adora was a bit sad she wouldn’t get to say goodbye, but that was the nature of the business – she was sure she would see her bubbly friend again at some point. She did have to find someone to water the plants, however.

Just then, three sharp raps rang out from Adora’s door. She sprang to her feet, and opened the door to find Angella standing outside.

“Good,” her boss said, entering her room briskly. “You’re already packed. Ms. Weaver wants you to start tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow morning?” said Adora.

“Is that a problem?”

“No, I just – this is all happening a little fast, don’t you think? I’ve only been on a couple of assignments before, and they were all event-specific. And now I’m going to be protecting one of the most famous people in the United States?” Adora flopped down onto her bed. “It just feels so sudden.”

“I know, Adora,” said Angella, a touch of softness in her voice. “But you are capable. I wouldn’t have recommended you if I didn’t think you could handle it.”

“Why did you recommend me, by the way?” asked Adora. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m honored. But we have many more experienced bodyguards. And Ms. Weaver said Catra was temperamental. What does that even mean? What if she doesn’t like me, or I mess up?”

“Your lack of experience might be a plus, actually. Apparently Catra has had issues getting along with her previous bodyguards. She would sneak out of her room and be halfway across the town before they realized she was missing. Ms. Weaver is hoping that since you’re closer to her own age, you’ll be a better fit.”

“I guess that makes sense.” Adora sighed. “I’m just nervous. I’ve never done anything like this before. And Ms. Weaver gave me some weird vibes.”

“You’ll be fine,” said Angella. She sat down on the bed next to Adora. “Besides, they are paying an exorbitant amount of money.”

“So I have to do it?” Adora asked, a small smile on her face.

Angella smiled back. “I wouldn’t say that. But I would say that you are…strongly encouraged to take this assignment. For your own sake as well as Brightmoon’s. If you make it more than a couple weeks, the commission alone would let you go on a long vacation.” The president of Brightmoon rose gracefully. “Meet me in the lobby tomorrow at 0700. And get some rest. It’s going to be a big day.” She moved to leave, but paused in the doorway. “Is there any business you need to take care of before you leave?”

Adora shrugged. “I need to find someone to water Perfuma’s plants.”

Angella laughed softly. “I will see to it.”

“She would also like if they were gently talked to a couple times a night. Apparently it really helps their growth. Especially George – she’s been a little worried about him.”

Angella flicked her eyes to the plants, then back to Adora. “I will _water_ them,” she said.

Adora watched her leave, then turned to the delicate fern on the windowsill. “Sorry, George,” she said. “Looks like you’re gonna have to persevere until Perfuma comes back.”

…

Adora stepped out of the car, placing a hand over her eyes to block the glare reflecting from the glass building in front of her. She’d driven by the Hordak Records building before, but she never fully appreciated how massive it was. Offering a quick salute and a wave to Angella, she stepped into the building. 

“Welcome to Hordak Records!” exclaimed the receptionist from behind the desk, a solidly built woman with short, lavender hair. 

“Uh, hi!” said Adora. “I’m here to see Ms. Weaver, or…Catra I guess? I’m the new bodyguard.”

The receptionist clapped her hands in delight. “Oh, wonderful! They told me the new person was coming by today. I was worried it would be another one of those hulking, no nonsense dudes in suits. Catra doesn’t seem to like them very much, and to be honest I don’t either. She may be the biggest star this side of the Atlantic, but she’s still a teenager, you know! You seem like a nice person though – I bet she’ll like you! And that ponytail is just adorable. My name is Scorpia, by the way. How rude of me! What’s your name?”

Adora paused, a little taken aback by the deluge of words. “Adora,” she said. “It’s nice to meet you, Scorpia.”

“So polite! Wow, Catra is going to love you! I can already tell. Now, I will need to see some identification – not that I think you’re lying, of course, it’s just company policy. You understand, don’t you? Of course you do, you’re a professional!” She took Adora’s offered ID and made a couple taps on her keyboard. “Everything matches up!” She reached down beneath her desk and pulled out a lanyard with a Hordak Records ID on it. “This is for you – the elevator and a bunch of doors won’t work unless you scan this first.”

Adora accepted the lanyard, stringing it around her neck. “Thank you! Shall I go up, then?” 

Scorpia beamed at her. “Of course! The top floor is Catra’s penthouse apartment, and I think your room will be there as well. I’m sure she will be happy to show you around – she’s a bundle of fun, that one. Oh, I rhymed! That wasn’t even on purpose. Anyway, I’m sure she’ll like you. Tell her I said hi!”

Adora nodded slowly. “Thank you!” She walked into the elevator, put her card on the scanner (it beeped approvingly), took a deep breath, and pressed the top button.

If she was being honest, Adora was a little nervous about meeting Catra. Despite her fame, no one really knew too much about her. She released her debut album a year ago after signing with Hordak Records, one of the biggest record labels in the country. It became an instant hit, but it was Catra’s countrywide tour that cemented her stardom. Apparently she was an electrifying live performer; Adora had looked up a couple concert videos, and the way Catra flew through the choreography without missing a note of the song was incredible. Then there was the matter of her appearance. Apparently, people went crazy for cat-girls, though there was a lot of online debate over whether or not her tail was real. 

Adora had never had a famous client before, but she’d heard some horror stories from other agents. Perfuma had once been assigned to protect a notable pop star who wouldn’t open any doors himself, afraid of the germs of past door-goers. That wasn’t so bad, Adora thought. Mermista had told her about an environmentally conscious celebrity who would make her hold all of the plastic refuse they encountered until they found a recycling bin. It wouldn’t have been so bad if that client didn’t go through multiple iced coffees every hour. And Sea Hawk once had a client punch him after he refused to pull an illegal driving maneuver when stuck in traffic.

Calm down, Adora, she thought to herself. Catra was probably nice. And even if she wasn’t, Adora was a smart, capable professional. She could do this.

The elevator dinged, and the door opened. Adora stepped out into the most beautiful apartment she’d seen in her whole life. Sunlight streamed through the glass windows, giving the space a warm glow; an elegant granite counter separated a small kitchen and a dining table; beautiful paintings adorned the walls, most of them chaotic arrays of bright colors; a steep staircase led up to a loft in the corner of the room.

“Wow,” said Adora. She shrugged off her duffel bag and scanned the room. No sign of her client – maybe she was in the bathroom? There were a few doors off to the sides of the main room. Before she could continue her investigation, however, a voice came from behind her.

“So you’re my new babysitter, huh?”

Adora whirled around to see a girl leaning against the wall, arms crossed. She had bushy brown hair and informal red loungewear on. Catra. She stuck her tongue out at Adora.

“You must be a pretty bad bodyguard if your own client can sneak up on you,” Catra said. Adora’s cheeks flushed.

“I’m sorry – I was just taken aback by how nice this place is. It won’t happen again.”

Catra laughed, and pushed herself off the wall, sauntering towards Adora. “Relax, I’m just teasing. I’m Catra, but you probably already knew that. What’s your name?”

“Adora,” she replied, eyeing her client warily. Suddenly, Catra picked up speed and bounded towards her. Before Adora had time to react, the pop star placed her face inches from Adora’s and tilted it sideways, as if she was studying her. Adora felt her ears burn, but tried to maintain her composure. Catra grinned.

“Hey, Adora.”


	2. Curiosity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who read the last chapter and showed interest in this story! I'm going to try for updates every Sunday; we'll see how I go with that, but I think it should be manageable. I will warn in advance the next chapter is probably going to be a little short; I have a specific moment I want to capture. After that, however, the plot will really start rolling.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and let me know what you think! :)

_“Hey Adora.”_

As the pop star gazed at her, Adora realized three things.

One, Catra’s eyes were different colors; yellow on the left and blue on the right. She filed that away for future reference.

Two, this job was going to be different than anything she’d ever done before.

Three – and this was the one that really hit her – her new client was _really_ attractive. 

Uh oh.

“Uh…Scorpia says hi,” said Adora, trying to think of ways to fill the silence. Catra snorted.

“Scorpia would say hi to a rock if she stepped near it while she was walking,” said Catra, sauntering away from Adora and plopping down on a luxuriously plush beanbag in the middle of a beam of sunlight. “Or if it was shiny. Or if it wasn’t around other rocks and she thought it might get lonely.”

Adora chuckled. Honestly, that did match up with her brief impression of Scorpia. She watched as Catra settled in to the beanbag, curling up contentedly. Her tail swished back and forth slowly on the floor before wrapping around her feet. 

“You’re staring,” said Catra, opening one eye to regard Adora impassively. 

“Sorry, I’ve just never…”

“Never seen a girl with a tail before?” finished Catra. “Yeah, most people haven’t.”

“It’s real then?” asked Adora. “Sorry, I hope that’s not offensive. I mean, I’ve seen pictures of you and stuff. I just wasn’t sure if it was part of the whole… pop star mystique thing.”

Catra rolled her eyes. “Yes, the tail is real, dumbass. Why would I pretend to have a tail? You know how annoying it is seeing them sell those clip-on ones at my shows?”

Adora’s brows furrowed. “Okay, so you have a real tail, and two different colored eyes…anything else I should know about?”

Catra smirked at her. “Nothing you won’t find out eventually.”

Adora felt the faintest hints of a blush creeping up her cheeks. It looked like the coming weeks would give her a lot of practice in self-discipline. But she had to stay focused. “I'd prefer to find out now if they could affect your well-being or my own. Your manager is paying Brightmoon a lot of money for me to keep you safe.”

Catra’s expression turned dark. “Yes, Shadow Weaver cares very much about keeping me safe, all right. God forbid I do anything remotely exciting and jeopardize her investments.”

“Her first name is Shadow?” asked Adora incredulously.

“Who would name their child ‘Shadow’?” Catra shot her an annoyed glace. “It’s just what I call her.”

“Because she looks like an evil sorceress?”

Catra’s gaze turned triumphant, and Adora pointedly ignored the little rush of excitement she felt upon realizing she had said the right thing. “Exactly! I’m glad you see it too. Everyone’s too desensitized to it here. Or they’re too scared of her to say anything.”

Adora nodded. “She gave me really weird vibes when I met her. And what’s with that mask?”

“She thinks it makes her look intimidating,” said Catra derisively. “ _I_ think it makes her look like a witch.” She rose off her beanbag and approached Adora again.

“Anyway, there’s nothing else that you need to know about me. Other than that I don’t know what I am, and I’ve never met anyone else like me.” There might have been a tinge of sadness in that sentence, but Catra moved on before Adora could respond. “Now come on, let me show you your room.” 

Adora followed the pop star to the space below the loft. “I sleep up there,” Catra said, pointing upwards. The loft was pretty high up, and Adora couldn’t really see what was on top of it. “Your bed is here, so if anyone breaks through the sixteen different layers of security in this building to try and kidnap me, they’ll have to go through you first.”

Adora nodded seriously. “They won’t get past me.” 

Catra rolled her eyes. “You’re ridiculous.” She jumped onto Adora’s bed, which looked significantly bigger and softer than her bed at Brightmoon. “No one has ever broken in here, so I wouldn’t worry too much about it, Girl Scout.” She turned and gave Adora a once over. Adora felt the blush again, but met Catra's eyes resolutely. “What would you do if they did, anyway? You look about as old as I am.”

Adora smiled. “I get that a lot. But I’ve been training since I was a baby and I’m one of the highest ranked bodyguards at Brightmoon Security.”

Catra leapt up. “Alright then, let’s see.”

“What do you mean?” said Adora. 

“Try to hit me.” Catra grinned.

“I’m not going to hit you. That’s literally the exact opposite of my job.”

“I need to know how strong you are though! How can I trust that you’ll protect me if I don’t know how strong you are?”

Adora folded her arms. “I’d be happy to put you in contact with a reference.”

Catra stuck the bottom of her lip out. Suddenly, however, her ears perked up. “I know!” She bounded up the stairs to her loft, disappearing from view for a second before sticking her head out to look at Adora. “Ready?” she asked. 

“I’m don’t know what you’re planning, but probably not!” Adora answered. 

“Too late!” With that, Catra leapt over her railing.

Adora didn’t have time to process what was going on. Instinctively, she put her arms out and slid into Catra’s trajectory. Her eyes shut on the impact, and when she opened them, she found a mismatched pair of blue and yellow ones gazing up at her with mirth.

“You passed the test,” said Catra. She made no move to leave her position in Adora’s arms, instead relaxing into them. Despite her best efforts, Adora blushed. She was now holding one of the most famous singers in America bridal style. Whatever she had been expecting from this new job, this was certainly not it. Catra continued to look up at her.

“You’re pretty cute, you know,” Catra said, a sly grin on her face. “For a bodyguard.”

“Um…thanks?” Adora mumbled. Catra threw her head back and laughed.

“You can put me down now, Adora.” Adora lowered her arms, and Catra lithely stepped out of them. “Thanks for the save.” She headed over towards the kitchen. Adora followed, her blush fading and the rest of her senses finally catching up with her.

“And why exactly was it so necessary to test me by jumping off your bed? You could have been seriously hurt!”

Catra opened the fridge, grabbed a juice box, and sat down on a fancy stool at the counter. “And if I was, we’d have learned that you weren’t qualified. But luckily for both of us, you are!” 

“That – that wouldn’t happen – that’s not what bodyguards are for!” Adora sputtered.

“Why are you so upset, anyway?” Catra popped her straw into the box and took a long slurp, a bored expression on her face. “You caught me. I’m fine. You’re fine.” She scooted up from her stool to lie on the counter, her back against the granite. “Sorry for trying to have a little fun.”

Adora sat down. “Look, from my experience, being a bodyguard is hard enough without the person in question deliberately endangering themselves. It’s not—” Catra suddenly bolted upright.

“Wait a second.” Her ears twitched. “The elevator’s coming up. It’s probably Shadow Weaver.” She turned to Adora, her defiance melting in to a rather plaintive expression. “Don’t tell her about the jumping thing, okay? She gets really mad if I do anything even a little bit dangerous.”

Adora shook her head. “I don’t know. She’s technically the one paying my company, and I really don’t feel comfortable lying to her.”

Catra’s eyes were wide and pitiful. “Please, Adora?” she said.

Adora had been training since she was a child. She could take down an enemy with seven different forms of martial arts. She could fire a variety of guns with near-perfect accuracy, and she could use over a dozen different melee weapons. She could run a five and a half minute mile. She could hoist a grown man over her shoulder and carry him for miles, or throw him at least fifteen feet, depending on wind resistance. But, in that moment, she found that she simply could not say no to a face that cute.

“Fine,” she said begrudgingly. “But no more crazy stunts like that, okay?”

Catra’s face lit up. “You’re the best!” She slid back into her seat. At Adora’s questioning glance, she muttered, “Shadow Weaver doesn’t like when I sit on the counter.”

On cue, the elevator dinged. Catra sighed. “Here we go.”

“Adora, so good to see you again. I see you’ve met our resident teen idol,” Shadow – _Ms._ Weaver purred, gliding into the apartment.

Adora stood up straight and saluted. “Yes, Ms. Weaver.” Catra rolled her eyes.

“Oh, so polite. You know, Catra, you could learn a thing or two from your new bodyguard.” Catra sent a quick glare at Adora before crumpling up her juice box and stalking over to the trashcan. Adora felt guilty for moment, but Ms. Weaver, as if sensing it, put a hand on her shoulder. “Now now, don’t mind her. She has her fits of moodiness.”

“She’s been very kind to me so far,” said Adora. Ms. Weaver laughed.

“I’m glad to hear you two are getting along. Let me take you on a tour of the building. Catra, mind I borrow your new friend for a minute?”

“We’re not friends, and you’re just going to do it anyway, so I don’t see why you’re asking me,” said Catra, walking back over to her plush beanbag. Her eyes flicked to Adora’s for a brief second before she settled back into her sun-drenched resting spot.

Ms. Weaver sighed. “Well, in that case, we will see you for dinner.” She guided Adora to the door, her hand never leaving the young bodyguard’s shoulder.


	3. Ropes

Ms. Weaver led her into the elevator and pressed the button for the 4th floor. They stood in silence for a moment before she turned towards Adora.

“So?”

Adora looked up at Ms. Weaver, confused. “So what?” she asked.

“So what did you _really_ think of our young prodigy, now that we’re out of her earshot. There’s no need to hold back – you can trust me.”

Adora scratched her head, unsure of what Shadow Wea— _Ms._ Weaver – already Catra’s nickname was beginning to replace her client’s actual name in her head – wanted to hear. “I mean, we’ve only spent a couple minutes together, but she seems very…spirited?”

Ms. Weaver’s laugh echoed in the small elevator. Yes, Adora decided, Shadow Weaver definitely fit as a nickname. She would have to watch herself to make sure she didn’t call her that to her face.

“Spirited is one way of putting it,” said Ms. Weaver. “She has a certain restless energy to her. It’s quite understandable, of course. She’s so young, but she has so much fame and responsibility. She yearns for the freedom to do anything she wants, but so much of what she wants is simply not compatible with the life of a pop star. I wish I could give her that carefree existence. But that’s just not how the world works.”

Adora nodded. She didn’t know too much about fame, but that all seemed to make sense. 

“I mention this because soon, Catra will begin to push at her boundaries with you. She’s done it with all of her past bodyguards. She’ll want to see how much she can get away with. If you’ll let her do certain things unattended. If you’ll buy her things she isn’t allowed to have. If you’ll lie for her.”

At that, Adora’s face whitened. How did Shadow Weaver know? No, she couldn’t know. Right? She put her lips tight together and nodded vigorously. “Understood, Ms. Weaver.”

“Of course you understand, Adora. I’m so glad to have you here. You might not see it yet, but I can already tell you’ll be a much better fit than our past bodyguards.” Adora flushed. She didn’t understand why Ms. Weaver seemed to like her so much, and it was putting her on edge. Thankfully, the elevator stopped moving. Before the doors opened, however, Ms. Weaver put her hand on Adora’s shoulder again, turning to face the young woman.

“There’s one thing you must understand, Adora.” Her tone shifted from cloying to something more sinister. “ _I_ am the one who hired you. _I_ am the one paying Brightmoon for your service. And _I_ am the one you ultimately report to. You do not work for Catra. You work for me. Do _not_ forget that.” Adora stared at the eyeholes of the crimson mask looking down at her. She couldn’t see the eyes behind them. She gulped.

“Yes, Ms. Weaver.”

The doors slid open. “Wonderful. Now, allow me to show you the inner life of Hordak Records. You’ve never been to a record label before, have you?” Adora, still inwardly reeling, mustered up the presence to shake her head. “Oh, perfect. I do love showing newcomers how things work around here.”


	4. Miniature Tarts

Despite what she’d said at the end of their unsettling conversation in the elevator, Shadow Weaver had excused herself rather quickly from the tour of Hordak Records – apparently, there was an important meeting she needed to attend. An enthusiastic girl with long pink hair came in to replace her, introducing herself as Entrapta. She was clearly very knowledgeable about the record label, though Adora was having a hard time keeping up with the flood of information coming at her.

“And here,” said Entrapta, opening an ostentatiously crimson door, “is the recording studio. This is where the magic happens! If by magic, of course, one means talented artists using the latest and greatest of modern recording technology to create audio masterpieces! These booths are constructed out of a lightweight, soundproof material that I invented myself.” She scurried up to one of them and took a long sniff. “They smell like licorice!” Opening the door, she gestured for Adora to follow. “Inside, you’ll find the Z83 microphone model – another one of my inventions – one of the most powerful on the market. I actually had to tone down the sensitivity because it was picking up faint sounds of the recording artists’ heartbeats! Isn’t that exciting?”

She threw a pair of headphones at Adora. “Listen to this!” She grabbed the microphone and began whispering inaudibly into it, motioning Adora to put the headphones on. “…all frequencies of the human voice and many that the human ear can’t even register! One of the employees brought their dog into work once and I was able to get her in the booth for a quick session. She could hear all sorts of sounds! Of course, I could only run a few experiments before they found her. Oh well. One day!” 

Adora winced in pain and removed the headphones. Entrapta’s voice got louder when she was excited, and she seemed to get excited…very often.

“And over here,” continued Entrapta, leading Adora out of the studio and through another hallway, “is my other favorite place at Hordak.” She pushed open a set of double doors theatrically. “The cafeteria!” Several long dining tables stood in the center of the room, and different food stations lined the edges of it. Adora’s mouth watered at the myriad of smells coming her way. Entrapta pulled her towards one of the stations. “This place is a goldmine. There are _tons_ of social interactions to analyze. Who sits with who? In what part of the room? How do they greet other people? And, most importantly...tiny food!” She took a small pastry from the counter in front of her. “Go on, try one!”

Adora somewhat hesitantly reached for a miniature tart. “Wow,” she said, wiping the crumbs from her mouth. “That was really good! Like a regular tart, but…smaller!”

“Exactly!!!” Entrapta beamed at her. “Now come on, there’s a lot more to see.”

After a _very_ involved tour of the rest of Hordak, Entrapta finally led her back to the elevator, citing several unfinished experiments she had to check on. Adora bid her goodbye, and, once she was in the elevator, took a long sigh of relief. She liked Entrapta, but it was all getting a little overwhelming. Honestly, all she wanted to do right now was go back to her bunk at Brightmoon, lie down on her bed, and listen to Perfuma talk about her day and all the different plants she’d seen. In turn, she would tell Perfuma all about Catra and Shadow Weaver and Hordak, and Perfuma would nod her head and braid a flower into her hair and tell her it would all turn out okay.

But she had a job to do.

She took a deep breath, scanned her ID card, and pressed the button for the top floor.

…

When she got back to the apartment, Catra was in the same spot, curled up in her plush beanbag. It looked like she hadn’t moved an inch the whole time Adora was away. Her small frame rose and fell gently with her breath, and Adora watched her for a moment. This peaceful look seemed a far cry from the energetic pop star she had been introduced to a couple hours ago. Adora felt a sudden urge to run her hands through Catra’s hair. She bet it would be soft, and silky, and…and completely unprofessional. She shook her head. She would have to be more disciplined.

“You’re staring again.”

Catra’s eyes stayed closed, but her tail swished back and forth. Adora straightened her back and sputtered. “I wasn’t – I’m sorry – you’re awake?”

Catra yawned, stretching her body languidly. “I am now.” She adjusted herself in the beanbag, moving into a vaguely more upright position, but made no move to get up. “How was Shadow Weaver’s grand tour?”

“Good! It was good,” rushed Adora. She didn’t think she should bring up the conversation they had in the elevator. She wasn’t sure how she could. 

Catra raised an eyebrow. “Okay, weirdo. Just a question.” She yawned again. “What time is it?”

“Um, almost one,” said Adora, checking her watch.

“You hungry?”

As a matter of fact, Adora was famished. She had a fast metabolism, and that tiny tart had only served to awaken her appetite. She shrugged. “I could eat.” As a bodyguard, her needs were secondary to her client’s.

“Well I’m starving,” said Catra. She rose from her chair in one swift motion and walked towards a room on the side of the apartment that Adora realized was a walk-in closet. “You cool with Chipotle?”

“I’ll eat anything,” said Adora. While again, it wasn’t a bodyguard’s place to tell their client how to eat, it was true that Adora was _not_ a picky eater. A favorite game of her friends Bow and Glimmer was to take her out to eat, buy her the weirdest items on the menu, and dare her to eat them. So far, she hadn’t turned down a challenge, even if the mango poutine from the Canadian fusion place had left her stomach feeling a little confused for the next couple days. She just liked food! “But won’t people recognize you? Having a bunch of fans or paparazzi around is a security risk.”

“Not a problem,” came Catra’s voice from her closet. She emerged wearing a purple beanie, a flowing black shirt, and a wide-legged pair of jeans. “I’ll go incognito.”

Adora raised an eyebrow. True, the hat covered Catra’s ears, and her tail had to be hidden in her jeans somewhere. But to say her client still looked anything other than distinctive would be lying. “Sure,” she said. “Just your average teenager with different colored eyes.”

“It’s called heterochromia, asshole.” Catra stuck her tongue out. “Tons of people have it. Plus, people wear all sorts of weird contacts these days.” She grabbed her sneakers from a rack near the door and began to tie them. “Come on, I feel like I haven’t eaten in ten years.”

Adora sighed, but retrieved her jacket and shoes. It didn’t seem like a great idea to go out in public, but she wasn’t really sure how things worked around here. She also wasn’t sure if she could tell Catra not to do things. Or if Catra would listen to her if she did. Pulling her red jacket around her shoulders, she followed her client into the elevator.

“So.” Catra stared straight ahead as they descended. “How does a nineteen year old get into the bodyguard business?”

Adora took a moment to consider her answer. “I attended a military school from a young age, and I did a lot of martial arts. When I graduated, I didn’t really know what I wanted to do, but I had a pretty specific skillset. I saw an ad for a bodyguard agency, and, well, I liked the idea of protecting people.”

“Wow,” said Catra, a hint of surprise in her voice. “I didn’t realize we hired an idealist.” She swung her body around to lean against the wall of the elevator, facing Adora. “What’s the worst thing you’ve had to do to someone who attacked your client?”

Adora laughed. “To be honest, the life of a bodyguard is usually pretty boring. It’s more about observing and avoiding potential threats than actually fighting people. And there’s often a lot of standing around.”

“So you’ve never had to fight anyone?”

“I didn’t say that.”

They exited the elevator, walking through Hordak’s main lobby.

“Oh hey, friends!” exclaimed Scorpia. “Hi Catra! Nice to see you again, Adora!”

“Hey Scorpia!” said Adora, smiling. Catra gave the receptionist a nod.

“Where are you guys off to?” asked Scorpia, leaning forward on her desk.

“We’re just going to get some lunch,” answered Catra, nonchalant. “Chipotle.”

“Want us to get you anything?” asked Adora. She hoped that was okay. But Scorpia had been so nice. And it wouldn’t take them any extra distance.

“Oh, no thank you. I brought lunch from home! That is so sweet though.” She stood up from her chair.

Catra sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Now you’ve done it.” 

“Can I give you a hug?”

Adora had begun a hesitant nod before Scorpia embraced her, but she wasn’t sure the receptionist had even waited for an answer. The larger woman’s hug was, if unexpected, at least warm and comforting. After a few seconds, she released Adora and turned to Catra.

Catra rolled her eyes. “Fine.” Scorpia squealed with delight and scooped her up. Adora laughed at the resigned expression on Catra’s face. “There’s no point in resisting. She’s just going to do it anyway.”

Finally they exited the building and walked through a small grassy park across the street from Hordak, Catra swiftly guiding Adora through the network of paths.

“So who did you fight?” she asked.

“What?”

“You said that you’ve had to fight people as a bodyguard. So who was it? How’d it go down?”

Adora scanned the unfamiliar area ahead of them. “Well, my last client was a very successful entrepreneur. About once a week, she would have to go downtown to a pretty rough neighborhood for a meeting with someone she was hoping to make a deal with, so she hired me to accompany her. There was a lot of drug and alcohol use around there, and I guess I don’t look that threatening, so sometimes people would cause trouble. They would be really belligerent and confrontational, and one time they even tried to rob her.”

“So what happened?” 

Adora cracked her knuckles. “Let’s just say that after a couple trips they learned to stop trying.” She smirked, and Catra clapped her hands gleefully. To be honest, the drunkards had not been the toughest opponents, especially considering Adora regularly trained against Brightmoon’s top agents. But she was happy that she could entertain her client. 

They spent the rest of the walk discussing Adora’s experiences as a bodyguard. Catra was surprisingly curious, though she didn’t seem to take bodyguard work very seriously. Still, it was a far cry from the aloof and disinterested pop star Adora had expected. Adora wasn’t used to being the focus of attention. It was kind of nice.

“Okay, so as a bodyguard, where’s the most secure seating in this Chipotle?”

“Hmmmm.” Adora’s eyes swept the room. “Ideally, a table towards the back, where we can observe the entrance.”

Catra shrugged. “Makes sense. But the only place not taken is the window, so… guess we’ll have to risk it.” She stuck her tongue out.

Adora paid careful attention to Catra’s order – she was admittedly curious as to if someone so famous had any weird quirks. But it seemed like a pretty standard pork burrito, though the pop star did insist on a heaping serving of the hottest salsa.

Adora, unsure of what exactly to expect, dug out her wallet at the register as the employee wrapped up her chicken burrito, but Catra gave her an amused look and put it all on a sleek, black card that read ‘Hordak’ in small print. They sat down by the window, each digging in ravenously. Conversation took a backseat to the food in front of them.

A couple minutes later, Catra leaned back in satisfaction. “Wow.” She burped. “I needed that.”

Adora brushed a napkin over her mouth. “Agreed.” She glanced up at the menu display.

“Are you still hungry?” asked Catra, with more wonder than judgment. 

“No! No,” rushed Adora. “Unless you are, that is.” Catra threw back her head and laughed, then pulled the black card out of her pocket. “Here,” she said. “Knock yourself out.”

Adora accepted the card, then immediately offered it back. “Thank you, but no. My focus would be divided between giving my order and keeping an eye on you. It’s too risky.”

Catra raised her eyebrows. “Really? Too risky for me to sit at this Chipotle counter while you get a burrito?” At Adora’s unyielding expression, she sighed. “Ugh, fine. C’mon.” She stood up. “I’ll go with you. Even though you’re being _ridiculous_.” She walked into the Chipotle line, and, after a second, Adora followed.

“You don’t have to do this,” said Adora. “Really, I’m fine.”

Catra assessed her skeptically. “If you can look me in the eyes and tell me with 100% honesty that you are not still hungry now, then we’ll go. But I don’t think you can do that.”

Adora looked her in the eyes. “I am not—” She slumped, rubbing her head sheepishly. “—not still hungry. I am hungry. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Anyway, it’s not my money.”

The woman behind the barrier asked Adora what she would like.

“A burrito, please,” answered Adora.

“And for you, miss?” she asked Catra.

“Oh, nothing for me, thanks.” Catra smirked, looping her arm through Adora’s. “I’m just keeping her company.”

Adora’s cheeks burned as she guided the woman through her burrito’s interior. “What are you doing?” she whispered to Catra, while the woman was piling grilled beef onto her rice and beans. “And uh, corn salsa, thank you.”

Catra leaned against her arm. “I’m staying a safe distance, that’s all. Your focus is divided. I don’t want you to lose track of me.”

“That’s not what I meant– um, yes, lettuce please. No sour cream. That’s all, thank you.”

Catra chuckled. She gave the Hordak card to the cashier and released Adora, sauntering away. “This one’s on me, babe.” Adora’s face was a solid shade of crimson as the cashier rung her up.

Catra let out a peal of laughter as they walked back to their seats. Adora, still flushed, crossed her arms. After a few moments, Catra composed herself. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to tease you. But you should have seen your face! You were like, ‘ohhhh, nooooooo, they didn’t cover this in bodyguard training! What do I dooooo?” She mimed out her bodyguard’s despair theatrically. Adora rolled her eyes, then dug into her food. Catra watched her bodyguard eat for a few moments, taking a long slurp from the soda she had surreptitiously refilled after buying Adora’s second course. “How’s it compare to burrito number one?”

Mouth full, Adora held up a finger. She chewed for five thoughtful seconds, swallowed, and thought for five more. “Hard to say. They’re both really good.” She went back to eating. Catra laughed. She let Adora finish her meal in silence, gazing out the window at the people walking by. When Adora looked over to check the entrance, she saw a smile lingering on the pop star’s face.

…

A minute after they left the Chipotle, Adora noticed they were being followed.

It wasn’t a very skilled tail. Under the guise of examining a storefront, Adora watched from the corner of her eye as a tall man in a well-tailored suit maintained a steady distance from them, pausing when she stopped and pointed at one of the items on display. 

Catra examined the rocking horse she was gesturing towards. “Huh? I mean, it’s well-made, but I think you’re a little big for it.”

“We’re being followed.” Adora nudged Catra forward, knowing the pop star would instinctually want look back. “Don’t look. Just keep moving.”

Catra stared at her for a second, then jerked her head around, scanning the area behind them. “You sure? I don’t see anyone.”

“I said don’t look!” She grabbed Catra’s left arm as gently as she could, pulling her forward. “You know the area. What’s the fastest, most public way to get back to Hordak?”

Catra thought for a second. “Not sure,” she said. “It’s on the other side of the park, so at some point we have to cut through there.” She studied Adora for a moment. “You’re serious about this, huh.”

Adora nodded sharply. They continued down the sidewalk, faster than before. Adora’s long strides covered ground quickly, and before long Catra was struggling to keep up.

“Adora. Hey! Adora!” she exclaimed, yanking her arm out of her bodyguard’s grip. “Do you really think we’re being followed? This feels like a bunch of normal, boring people to me. And even if we are, it’s probably just some fan who recognized me.”

Adora frowned at her for a moment. “Fine. Man in the suit. Walking behind that woman with the purple coat.”

Catra’s eyes searched for a moment before landing on their target. He met them with pale blue ones. He leered.

“Okay, you’re right,” admitted Catra. “Doesn’t look like a fan.” They continued onwards, but the man followed. He was gaining on them, more brazen now that he knew he had been seen.

“Adora?” Catra’s voice was quieter than before.

“Don’t worry. If he tries anything, I’ll handle it.” They reached the park. Adora glanced behind them. The man was fast approaching, clearly aiming to intercept them when they entered the less populated area. She made a decision.

“Catra, get behind me,” she said. Catra met her eyes for a moment, then did as she asked. Adora turned her full attention to the man in front of her, watching as he came closer and closer. He slowed when he saw Adora staring him down, but kept coming.

“Hey, ladies. Nice afternoon for a walk, isn’t it?” His voice had an edge of amusement to it that Adora didn’t trust.

“Sir, do not get any closer to me or my client,” said Adora.

His grin was wide. “Client? I didn’t realize I was dealing with a _professional_.”

Adora’s only response was to deepen her glare.

He scowled. “Aren’t you two cute.”

“What do you want, weirdo?” yelled Catra.

“Who says I want anything? I’m just passing by. We’re going the same direction, actually.”

“Liar.” Adora’s voice was even. “We saw you following us.”

“Alright, I’ll admit it.” He looked at Catra. “I recognized you immediately. You’re the cat girl, right? The singer.” His eyes narrowed. “I just wanted to say hi.”

“Well, you’ve said it.” Adora crossed her arms. “Now get moving.”

“Oh, but I’m so curious about her…anatomy. I have some questions I’d like to answer. About what parts are in what places.” His mouth twisted cruelly.

“I’m telling you one more time, do not step any closer to her.”

“Or what?”

“Or you’ll regret it.”

He laughed sharply. “You think you’re pretty tough, huh?”

He stepped closer. She swung.

…

“Oh. My. God.”

Adora wanted to get off the scene immediately, so they walked quickly through the park back towards Hordak. Catra bounced up and down beside her.

“That was so cool!!! You just…WHAM…and he just…dropped!”

Adora examined her fist, which was slightly raw from the impact. “I warned him not to get closer. But they never think a teenage girl can punch.”

Catra giggled. “I bet he knows now. I wonder what he’ll think when he wakes up.”

Adora flashed a grin. “You okay?”

Catra nodded, her mirth fading. “Yeah. I just can’t believe he came up to us on the street like that.” She tugged down her beanie. “I know some people are kinda pervy about the cat girl thing, but no one’s ever really…been so aggressive about it before. Not to my face.”

“Well, I can’t say I know what that’s like.” She put a hand on Catra’s shoulder, meeting her eyes. “But if anyone else is gross enough to do anything like this, I’ll happily punch them too.”

Catra’s laugh was short, but her frown lessened. “Thanks, Adora.”

They walked the remainder of the way back to Hordak in silence.

…

The rest of the day went by in a blur for Adora. Shortly after they returned to Hordak, she accompanied Catra to her session with a vocal coach in the Hordak studios. Adora had been looking forward to hearing Catra sing in person, but she was told by the rather ornery singing instructor to wait outside the soundproof booth so as to not disrupt the acoustics. Catra looked rather unenthusiastic about the lesson; from what Adora could tell, the coach was having her do a series of exercises over and over again. At one point it seemed like they got in a pretty severe argument, but Catra finally sighed and resumed her singing, rolling her eyes at Adora through the glass.

Before the lesson was over, Entrapta bounced in to give Adora some tech. The bodyguard was now the owner of a Hordak smartphone, headset, and watch, all of all of which were capable of sending and receiving calls and messages. They were linked to each other and to her laptop (which she hadn’t even taken out of her bag yet). Her smartphone, which Entrapta apparently designed herself, came equipped with a multitude of different apps, ranging from the potentially functional (a satellite map that could display real time images of the surrounding area) to the perhaps unnecessary (an elevator tracker that showed what floor the Hordak elevators were on at all times) to the completely irresponsible (an app called simply “Grenade,” that, when opened, would allow the user to pick an amount of time after which the entire phone would explode).

“Entrapta, this can’t be legal,” Adora had said. The pink-haired technician simply laughed.

“What the government doesn’t know can’t hurt them!”

Adora wanted to protest that statement, because it _definitely_ wasn’t true, but Entrapta was too busy fiddling with the watch’s clasp (“At the right level of tightness, it can accurately supply your bodily information!”) to really engage with her.

Her phone came equipped with five contacts: Catra, Ms. Weaver, Scorpia, Entrapta, and Lonnie. Her curiosity over the last name was abruptly resolved when Lonnie called her.

“Adora, right? Entrapta told me she was going to hook you up with the tech. I’m Lonnie, the chief of security at Hordak. When you get the chance, meet me in my office on the eighth floor.”

After the lesson, as Catra returned to her room, Adora did just that. Lonnie turned out to be a sturdy woman who seemed like she knew what she was doing. She introduced Adora to her two deputies, a hulking man named Rogelio who seemed to communicate solely in grunts and a rather anxious boy named Kyle. She would be coordinating with them during Catra’s concerts and events.

As she stood in the elevator going up to Catra’s apartment, Adora got another call, this one from Scorpia. The receptionist informed her that the weather was beautiful today, a really interesting guy with two different scarves on just walked by, and this weekend her cousin was taking her on a boat trip – oh, and Ms. Weaver requested Adora and Catra’s presence in the cafeteria for dinner.

…

“Going to get a burrito was a reckless decision?!”

“If Adora hadn’t been there—”

“But she _was_ there! It’s her _job_ to be there!”

“This time, yes. But how many times have you run off without your bodyguard to go cavort around the town? This is a pattern of reckless—”

“What do you expect me to do when I’m trapped in my apartment all the time? If you had your way, I’d probably be locked inside!”

Adora glanced back and forth like she was watching a game of tennis. After Ms. Weaver had learned about what happened on their excursion, the conversation had quickly turned into a shouting match. Adora looked down at her plate. She was almost halfway done, but Catra had barely touched her food, and Ms. Weaver hadn’t taken a single bite. Adora wondered if she even _could_ eat with her mask on. 

Finally, Ms. Weaver held up her hand. “Enough.” She sighed. “I trust you have at least learned the importance of staying with your bodyguard. For now, that will have to be enough. We have other matters to discuss.” Catra crossed her arms, but didn’t protest. Ms. Weaver leaned forward.

“This morning, I received a call from the booking director of Princess Fest. Ariana Grande just pulled out; apparently a sudden conflict arose. He wanted to see if he could book you instead.”

Catra leaned back in her chair. “This is the one with all the floofy pink stuff, right? Hard pass. It looks way too girly for me.”

“I said yes, of course,” continued Ms. Weaver. “This is the headlining position on the main stage. The festival is full of young listeners who might not know you yet. We can’t pass this opportunity up.”

Catra groaned. “Really? I haven’t performed in months. I need time to go over choreography – and I don’t even have a set.”

Ms. Weaver waved her hand. “We’ll fly out tomorrow and work on it there. I know it’s short notice, but this could be your next big break.”

“Of course. I can’t even go buy a burrito by myself. Why should I expect that I can make decisions about _anything_ in my life?” Catra pushed herself off her chair and headed for the elevator.

“Catra,” Ms. Weaver called. “Catra!” But the pop star didn’t turn around. Adora moved to follow her, but Ms. Weaver gestured her to remain.

“Stay a moment, won’t you, Adora?” Adora sat down uncertainly. Ms. Weaver sighed. “She has her fits of drama. I just hope she knows that I have her best interests at heart. Sometimes I think she forgets that.”

Adora wasn’t sure what to say. “I’ve never been to a music festival before,” she offered hesitantly. “So it works out for me, at least.”

Ms. Weaver laughed. “Oh, wonderful. I do appreciate you looking after her, Adora. It sounded like quite the situation today.”

Adora nodded. “That’s why I’m here.”

“Of course, of course. There is one thing, though.” She leaned closer to Adora. “You didn’t know about this, so I won’t hold this time against you. But in the future… do not go anywhere with Catra without notifying me first.” Her fingers drummed against the table. 

“Yes, Ms. Weaver.” For some reason, the words left a bad taste in Adora’s mouth.

“I must seem intense, I know. I just get so worried, as her manager. We’ve been working together for so long – I feel quite protective of her. I know she resents that, but I can’t help it. And with incidents like what happened today, I’d just prefer to know where she is, for my own peace of mind.”

Adora nodded. She supposed that she couldn’t really fault Ms. Weaver for that. 

…

When she got back to the penthouse, Catra was sitting at the counter.

“Hey, Adora,” she said, leaning forward and resting her head on her hands.

“Hey.” Adora walked over and sat down next to her. “You okay? That was a pretty intense argument.”

Catra waved her hand. “I walk out of dinners with Shadow Weaver all the time. She’s just so _irritating_. It’s like she doesn’t think I can do anything for myself.” She slumped her head further.

Adora put a hand out to pat her on the shoulder, then pulled it back. “I brought you some food,” she said instead, holding out a small bag. “Since it didn’t seem like you ate that much.”

Catra took the bag, looking inside it. “Oh! A mini-tart! I love these!” Stuffing it in her mouth, she turned to Adora. “Thangmth ‘ou.” Adora laughed, and after a second, Catra did too.

“Adora?” she asked, after she finished chewing. “Really, thank you.”

“They’re just small tarts,” said Adora, rubbing the back of her neck.

“Not for the food.” Catra paused, looking down at the table. “Look, I…I admit I had my doubts about you when we first met. I’m used to my bodyguards being big men in suits.” She scratched behind her ear. “But today with that creep? I was really scared. I’ve never been confronted like that before. Probably because of those 6’6” bodyguards. So I was kinda freaking out. But the way you took control – you seemed so confident in what you were doing. And you knew exactly what to do.” Catra fiddled with her hands. “You were really reassuring. And then you decked that guy, which was totally awesome. So…thank you.” She smiled.

Adora flushed. “Just doing my job.” Catra laughed.

“I knew you would say something like that. You’re such a goody two-shoes.” She leaned over and booped Adora on the forehead. “I like it though.” She laughed again, then leapt up across the counter.

“I’m going to bed now,” she called over her shoulder. “You should probably do the same. Knowing Shadow Weaver, we’ll probably leave obscenely early tomorrow.”

…

After Adora brushed her teeth and changed into a white undershirt and plain boxers, she lay in her bed, struggling to sleep. She was exhausted, but this bed was significantly softer than her one at Brightmoon, and it was throwing her off. It didn’t help that so many thoughts were running through her mind. She couldn’t believe it had only been a single day at Hordak. Between adjusting to her new client, dealing with Ms. Weaver, and meeting so many different employees, it felt like ages – and that wasn’t even getting in to the man who accosted them. She turned over, hoping the other side would provide her more comfort. Honestly, the day had been intensely stressful. She hadn’t been sure what to expect, but it was not this. Was she really cut out to deal with such a high-profile client? 

Still, though. What Catra said to her back in the kitchen kind of made up for it.

She fell asleep with a smile on her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the end of Adora's first day at Hordak comes to a close! I know it's a long chapter, so thanks for reading! I wanted to give you guys something a little meatier since last week's update was so short. I really appreciate the interest people are showing in this story! It's been a while since I've written anything substantial, and this is a fun challenge.
> 
> See you next week! :)


	5. Cold Feet

Everything Adora could see was pink.

She and Catra stood in their hotel room, one of three bedrooms in a luxury suite originally reserved for Ariana Grande. And while Adora wasn’t sure if it was the pop star’s preference or the people putting on the festival, whoever was in charge of furnishing the room had a singular vision in mind.

“Wow.” Catra collapsed on the soft pink rug that covered the floor. “My eyes are starting to hurt just looking at this.” Adora pulled back the pink curtains, pulled out the pink wooden chair from the pink desk, and sat down.

“At least we won’t be here very long,” she offered. The festival was tomorrow, so the plan was for Catra to spend all of today rehearsing. The Hordak dance troupe that accompanied her on her tour was currently out with another artist, so this would be a solo performance; while the full effect of Catra’s vaunted choreography might be lessened, it would at least be simpler to get everything together on such short notice.

Four quick knocks came at the door, but before Adora could open it, Scorpia burst in. “Hey guys! Your room is pink too! Isn’t it just lovely?”

“It looks like this room is almost perfectly identical to ours! I’ll have to take some photographs to confirm, of course.” Entrapta followed Scorpia into the room, speaking into a handheld recording device. “And I wonder if Ms. Weaver’s room is similar…”

“I don’t mean this in a negative way, but remind me again why you two are here?” Adora had been surprised to find the two of them in the car with her, Catra, and Ms. Weaver when they left Hordak for the airport early that morning. They probably explained it then, but a couple minutes into the ride Catra had fallen asleep leaning on her shoulder, and Adora spent the rest of it too focused on staying still to really pay attention to the conversation.

Entrapta beamed at her. “I wear a lot of hats here at Hordak Records,” she said, gesturing to a curious contraption on her head that continuously rotated miniature versions of a top hat, a propeller beanie, and a sombrero. “And I also do tons of different things for the company! Including the light shows for Catra’s performances.”

“And I’m here to make sure she doesn’t, uh, blow anything up,” said Scorpia, with a sheepish look at Entrapta.

The inventor cackled. “You can try!” She gave the room a final once over before bouncing out the door. “On to the third test case!”

“Entrapta, I don’t think Ms. Weaver wants us to go in her – oh no. Entrapta!” Scorpia ran after Hordak’s resident mad scientist.

Catra laughed. “Isn’t she hilarious? I remember being introduced to her when I first got signed to Hordak – I thought she was the most annoying person I’d ever met. Then she pulled me aside at the big welcome party and asked me to help record the top executive’s conversations because she was trying to understand the social patterns of the workplace.” She rose from the carpet lazily. “It changed the party from a total snoozefest into something actually exciting. Did you know that one of the biggest shareholders in Hordak has a foot fetish? He got completely wasted and propositioned like five different people.”

After dropping that apparent bombshell on her, Catra went into the bathroom, leaving Adora to complete her examination of the room. She didn’t expect anything fishy, but it was standard procedure to give anywhere her client would be staying a solid once over. She checked under the bed and the tables. Nothing suspicious. She peered out the windows. Too high to break into, or to jump from safely in an emergency. She pulled out the drawer of the bedside table. Was that a…yes, that was a hot pink Bible. Wow.

Aside from a monochromatic color scheme, the room seemed perfectly adequate. Adora’s only concern was that there was only one –

“Is Catra ready?”

Adora jumped. Ms. Weaver stood in their doorway.

“She, uh, just went to the bathroom.”

“Tell her to meet me in the rehearsal room as soon as she comes out. We have a lot of work to do today.”

…

They did indeed do a lot of work that day. Adora was eager to finally hear Catra perform, but found herself relegated to guarding the door to the space – this was not a private rehearsal room, and other artists and bands would periodically try to get in. Most accepted Adora’s firm refusal, but a couple persistent ones required her to call Ms. Weaver, who would come over and icily inquire as to why they were wasting her artist’s precious time. They would leave fairly quickly after that.

After a while, the visitors died down. And while Angella always said that patience was a bodyguard’s most important virtue, Adora was starting to get intensely bored. The empty hallway around her offered little stimulation.

She took her jacket off. If she was just going to remain in front of this door and tell people not to come in the room, she could at least do something productive. She reached for her toes. It was always important to stretch before working out.

She was midway through her third set of pushups when she noticed Catra’s head in the doorway. The pop star was staring at her, her mouth slightly open. Adora leapt up.

“What’s up?” she said. “Do you need anything?”

Catra shook her head slowly. “No.” She blinked. “We were, um…we just…we finished rehearsing for the day. So we are going to get food now. If you would like to come with us.”

“Well, that is my job,” said Adora jauntily. She wasn’t sure why Catra was acting so weird. But any news about food was good news.

…

When they got back to the hotel room, Adora asked if Catra was nervous about her performance tomorrow.

“Yeah,” came the immediate reply. Catra rolled over on the bed so that she was lying on her back. “The day before is always the worst. Once the adrenaline kicks in, it’s fine. But just the anticipation…”

Adora nodded from the desk chair, though she wasn’t sure Catra could see her. “I get that. I’m usually a wreck the entire week before our physical evaluations at Brightmoon. My roommate – her name is Perfuma – she says my energy is all over the place. But during the test, I don’t feel nervous. I’m too focused.”

Catra rolled over again, resting her head on her arms. “Roommate, huh? I didn’t realize you lived with other people.”

“Well, we don’t really see each other that often, since we’re away on assignment so much. But she’s another bodyguard at Brightmoon. She’s lovely. She has all these plants, and she cares about them a lot. And she’ll always listen to you if you have a problem.”

“Are all your friends bodyguards?”

“Most of them!” Adora chuckled. “Except for my best friends, Glimmer and Bow. Glimmer is the daughter of Angella, the president of Brightmoon. She grew up wanting to be a bodyguard, but Angella thought it was too dangerous and forbid it. No one told me that, though. So one of my first days there, this tiny girl with purple hair asks me to spar, and of course I say yes. A couple minutes later my boss comes into the room, furious because I have her daughter in a headlock. But Glimmer was really cool about it, and now we’re best friends!” Adora smiled at the memory. “She and Bow have been inseparable since childhood. He’s a really fun, enthusiastic dude who loves crop-tops – you’d like him. Everyone does.” She pulled out her phone – her personal phone, not the Hordak issued one – to show Catra the lock screen: her, Bow, and Glimmer crumpled together on the couch after a movie marathon. She and Glimmer were both asleep on Bow, who had somehow maneuvered his hand free in order to take the selfie. It was one of Adora’s favorite pictures.

“Very cute,” said Catra, glancing at the photo. 

“What about you?” Adora asked. “Tell me about your friends.”

“There’s not much to tell.” Catra’s tail wrapped around her feet. “I mean, you’ve already met Scorpia and Entrapta.”

Adora guffawed. “Yeah, okay. Really though.” Silence. “You’re serious.”

Catra’s laugh was more bitter than amused. “Surprised I don’t have a squad of famous friends? I’m not Taylor Swift. Most of the famous people I meet seem pretty stupid to me. Or maybe fake is a better word. They don’t seem like people I could trust.”

“I guess that makes sense. But what about people from before you were famous?”

“Sure, they reach out from time to time. But…” Catra regarded Adora coolly for a moment. “Look, I’m not gonna get into it right now, but I had a pretty rough childhood. And more often than not, people who reach out to me now are people who didn’t give a shit about me when I wasn’t a pop star. So I wouldn’t regard them as friends.”

“I’m sorry, I—”

Catra shook her head. “It is what it is.” They sat in silence for a few moments. 

“I mean, Scorpia and Entrapta are super cool. And, I know we’ve only just started working together. But I could see us, being, you know. Friends.” Adora knew she was teetering on the edge of professionalism. But it wasn’t in her nature to be silent at a time like this. Catra rolled her eyes.

“I appreciate that you’re trying to be nice. But if my only friends are people who are literally paid to be around me, I think that’s a bad sign.” Her tail flicked back and forth. “Now come on. Let’s go to bed. I’m exhausted.”

Adora’s concerns for her client’s social life melted away in the face of a more pressing issue. “Uh, yes. About that. I can just take this chair, I guess? Or maybe the floor would be more comfortable.”

“Or you could just sleep in the bed, weirdo.”

Adora’s cheeks burned. “But – aren’t you – wouldn’t that – I’ll just take the chair!”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Catra. “That chair looks horrifically uncomfortable. This bed is massive, and I sleep curled up anyway.”

Adora felt like she should protest more. But the chair _was_ uncomfortable. And if she was sore tomorrow, or if she didn’t get enough sleep, she would be a less effective bodyguard.

“Alright.” She went to the bathroom to change into her pajamas. When she came back, true to her word, Catra was curled up on top of the covers. Adora gingerly lifted up the edge and slipped beneath them, giving the pop star plenty of room. It wasn’t hard; as Catra said, the bed was massive. She lay on her back, trying to get comfortable without moving too much and disturbing her client. The blanket was soft, but not incredibly thick, and she found that her feet were unpleasantly cold. Still, part of bodyguard training was sleeping in uncomfortable environments, and Adora finally drifted off. 

When she awoke to pink-tinted sunlight streaming through the windows, however, there was a comfortable weight on her legs, and her feet were the perfect temperature.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! This chapter was originally going to be much longer, but I decided to split it in two and tackle the performance next week. So stay tuned for Catra's (on-screen) musical debut! :) and thanks for reading!


	6. Princess Fest

Adora wasn’t sure what to do.

She reached over to the bedside table for her phone, careful to keep the bottom half of her body still. A message from Ms. Weaver ran across the screen:

_Meet me in the lobby at 9:00am with Catra._

Adora glanced at the time: 8:08. Too early to wake up Catra, too late to go back to sleep. She resolved that she would wake her client up at 8:20. Speaking of her client…

Catra had draped herself across Adora’s lower half. Her face was turned away from Adora; all the bodyguard could see was a mess of bushy hair attached to the body curled around her legs.

Just then, Catra made a muffled noise, and rolled over. Her chest rose up and down slowly, her mouth slightly open. 

Well, okay. Maybe she could wait until 8:30.

…

As the new headliner of Princess Fest, Catra would be the last show of the day, taking up the 8pm slot on the main stage. So, as it turned out, they had a lot of time to kill. And while Catra grumbled a bit about waking up so early when her performance was so late, once she got out of bed the pop star seemed pretty energetic. She wanted to explore Princess Fest – apparently she knew some of the other musicians. 

Adora had half expected Ms. Weaver to shoot down that idea, but after a few moments of consideration, the manager had acquiesced – provided Adora stuck with the pop star at all times.

“It’s not like I can do any more preparing, anyway,” said Catra as they walked towards the performers’ entrance to the festival. “If I sing today my voice will be tired for the concert.” Adora nodded, her mouth occupied by a croissant she had taken from the hotel breakfast buffet. Catra showed her badge to a stern man in a black t-shirt. He examined it, then waved her by, sending a questioning glance Adora’s way. “She’s with me.”

Their first stop was the Royal stage, the second-biggest stage of the festival. Catra took Adora around the back of it, revealing stairs that led up to the side of the stage. It was still early; the only signs of life were plainly dressed sound techs running around frantically.

“Are we allowed to be here?” asked Adora. No one had told them they couldn’t, but she felt like she was trespassing.

Catra laughed. “I’m famous,” she replied succinctly.

“Still, though. I mean, we just walked right up here. Shouldn’t people be in place to stop things like that from happening?”

Catra poked her. “I know it’s like, your job or whatever, but could you switch out of security mode for a bit? Just relax.” The pop star grabbed a folding chair from a small stack leaning against the wall. “What sort of music do you like? There are tons of people playing today.”

“I don’t really know that many current bands,” said Adora. She scratched her head. “Maybe you can read some of them off? My friend Glimmer plays me new music in the car sometimes, and I bet some of the bands she likes are here.”

Catra pulled the list up on her phone. “Chvrches…Kali Uchis…Jorja Smith…Snow tha Product…070 Shake…Kacey Musgraves—”

“Oh, I’ve heard of her!” exclaimed Adora, excited.

Catra giggled. “You didn’t tell me you were an _expert_! Now I feel like an uncultured clown.” 

Adora punched Catra’s shoulder lightly. “Ha ha.” She smiled. “No, I appreciate the thought, but I’m happy to follow you around for the day and see what bands you think are worthy of your time. I’ll take it as a chance to broaden my horizons.”

“We’ll give you a crash course in current music,” Catra agreed. “The first person you need to see is Tierra Whack. She is so cool. Her new album is 15 songs, but they’re each one-minute long. Here, actually—” she dug a pair of earbuds out of her bag and stuck them into her phone. “We still have a bunch of time before the show starts. Your education starts now!”

Adora took the headphones with hesitation. “I don’t know if I feel comfortable with that. I like to be able to hear to everything that’s going on around me.”

“Yeah, I knew you wouldn’t be able to switch out of security mode.” Catra stuck her tongue out. “What if we shared? Then you could still keep one ear free to the outside world.”

That was still more distraction than Adora would have liked, but the sound techs bustling around them didn’t seem to be too much of a threat. “Alright, I suppose. But once more people start coming in I’m going to take them out.” Catra cheered. As she pulled up the album, Adora felt her pocket buzz.

It was a one-word message from Ms. Weaver. _Location?_

_We’re at the Royal Stage._

The response came almost instantaneously. _Good. Keep me posted._

Catra offered her an earbud. “Ready to get your mind blown?”

…

It was, Adora had to admit, a pretty good album. She and Catra sat on the side of the stage, the pop star silently nodding her head up and down to the beat. Since she was down an ear, Adora intended to continually scan the area for threats, but she found that her gaze would often land on her client. Catra’s small movements entranced her. Sometimes, she would close her eyes, and it seemed like the music brought something out from deep within her. Other times, she would open them and flail her arms about wildly, laughing as she let the rhythm flow through her.

Occasionally, however, her client would meet her gaze, arching an eyebrow in challenge. Adora would gulp and look away. She did need to monitor their surroundings, after all.

Soon enough, ambient rumblings of conversation began to fill the air, and Adora could see a crowd gathering outside. More people moved across the stage, tapping microphones and plugging in amps, but no one questioned their presence, though one sound tech did politely ask Catra for a selfie.

Adora checked the time on her phone. “Isn’t she supposed to start soon?”

“Yeah, but no one expects these things to start on time. As a performer, you have to give people that last bit of time to get to the stage – plus, an extra couple minutes of anticipation never hurts.” Catra stretched her arms out above her head. “Shadow Weaver doesn’t like that, though. She has all these ideas about what it means to be a proper pop star. It’s exhausting.”

Tierra Whack clearly didn’t share those concerns, beginning her set a full fifteen minutes after it was scheduled. Judging from how enthusiastic the crowd was, however, it didn’t seem like they cared. 

After the show, Adora and Catra continued to roam through the festival, stopping to take pictures with fans when they recognized Catra. After this happened a couple times, Catra pulled her hood up. “I don’t mind the fans – actually, it’s pretty much the best part of being famous,” she told Adora. “But during the day or two before a show, it just feels like added pressure. _After_ a show – well, after a good show – I could spend hours with them.” While a few discerning festival-goers saw through her hood, most didn’t give them a second glance.

When it got really crowded, Catra would take Adora’s hand, leading her through the masses to their next destination. A small voice in her head that sounded a lot like Angella informed her that this wasn’t very professional, but Adora didn’t hear it offer any suggestions of other ways to make sure she stuck with her client in the crowd, so she elected to ignore it. And if she continued holding on for a bit even after they were through the worst of the throngs, well, she was just exercising due caution.

Every time they reached a new location, she would update Ms. Weaver. Her texts were a record of a day well spent: she and Catra had criss-crossed the festival, catching some artists that Catra knew and some that they just thought had funny or interesting names. Adora particularly enjoyed The 1975 – they had more in common with the music she listened to than the (admittedly quite talented) pop singers. And they did see Kacey Musgraves, if only so Adora could brag to Glimmer about it.

When they tired of the music, they would retreat to the performers’ lounge, a secluded tent area with comfortable seating, no fans, and catered food.

“Why do I get the feeling that, even though we just saw some of the most innovative musicians in the scene right now, this part is actually more exciting for you?”

Adora shrugged, her mouth stuffed to the brim with sweet potatoes. “Maybe,” she said after she finished chewing, “because they have so much stuff here! And they make it all right in front of you! This is insane!”

Catra laughed. “You’re ridiculous.” She slurped her strawberry smoothie, which stood alone in front of her in sharp contrast to Adora’s jam-packed plates.

Taking one final bite, Adora leaned back in her chair. “Wow. I could die happy right now.” She closed her eyes for a few moments, then opened them abruptly. “Actually, maybe I’ll do one final trip. How’s the smoothie?”

“Try it.” Catra slid it across the table, something like a challenge on her face. Adora’s face went slightly pink, but she took a sip nonetheless.

“Wow. Yeah, I’m getting a smoothie.” She stood up from the table and looked expectantly at Catra.

The pop star groaned. “Oh, come on. For real? We’re in a tent! They ID people at the door!” Adora crossed her arms. “Ugh. Fine, but I’m stealing some of your smoothie.” She stood up, following her bodyguard to the smoothie bar. “And let’s do a different kind. I’m bored of strawberry.”

…

Finally, it was time. They returned to their hotel suite, where Ms. Weaver awaited them.

“Catra, my dear.” The manager put a hand on the singer’s shoulder. “Remember, we have worked long and hard for this. I saw talent in you years ago, and you’ve since proven that talent to the world.” Her hand rose to Catra’s cheek. “Now prove it to them once more.”

Catra nodded resolutely before vanishing into the bathroom to change. Ms. Weaver turned to Adora. “Thank you for updating me on Catra’s whereabouts today. I don’t usually feel comfortable with her out and about, but knowing she’s with you makes me feel much more secure.”

“Of course, Ms. Weaver.”

“Come to my room when she’s ready and we’ll head over.” With that, Ms. Weaver glided out of the room.

…

“What do you think?”

Adora glanced up, and promptly froze.

Catra had finally emerged from the bathroom. She wore a dark red jacket around her shoulders and matching pants with small slits in them. The jacket was unzipped, revealing a black crop top and a bare midriff.

“Well?” Catra twirled around. Adora tried to answer, but her brain struggled to form a coherent response. She swallowed uncomfortably – her mouth was dry.

“G-good!” She forced out. With effort, she contorted her hand into a thumbs-up.

Catra smirked. “You okay?” Adora nodded up and down emphatically. “Good, cuz it’s almost time.” They walked over to Ms. Weaver’s room. Catra rapped against the door a couple times.

“Just a moment,” came Ms. Weaver’s voice. She sounded a bit strained. Catra and Adora exchanged glances. The door opened.

“Ready, girls?” Despite whatever they just heard, Ms. Weaver looked like her regular imposing self. She regarded Catra’s outfit. “A little risqué, don’t you think?” Catra met her stare without flinching, and Adora tensed up, ready for an argument to break out. But Ms. Weaver simply sighed. “I suppose that’s par for the course these days.” Her head shifted towards Adora. “Event security will handle stage divers and other such nuisances. But if anyone comes near Catra, I trust you will step in.”

“Yes, Ms. Weaver.”

“Wonderful. Now come. We don’t want to leave the fans waiting.”

…

When she peeked out at the crowd, Adora couldn’t see the end of the mass of people. There were way more here than there had been to see Tierra Whack at the beginning of the day. Even though her job mostly boiled down to standing on the side of the stage and watching the performance, she still felt a bit nervous. More for Catra than herself.

The pop star, on the other hand, had started grinning as soon as they came within eyesight of the stage and hadn’t yet stopped. Standing next to Adora, she rubbed her hands together and bounced up and down lightly.

“You ready?” asked Adora. It felt a bit like a pointless question, but she couldn’t help herself.

Catra’s grin turned downright feral. “I was born ready.”

The lights turned down. The crowd roared.

“Here we go,” said Catra, turning to Adora. “Wish me luck.” She winked, then bounded onstage, a spotlight finding her almost the second she stepped out.

Adora’s eyes followed her client. “Good luck,” she murmured. She didn’t think Catra needed it.

“Hey everyone!” The crowd cheered in response. “How’s everyone doing tonight?” Another cheer. “Wonderful. I know it’s been a long day, and I appreciate all of you for staying. Now without further ado…Entrapta!” The lights flickered all sorts of different colors before settling on a rippling pattern of bright red as the first song began.

The pulsating bass underscored a high tempo melody. Catra stood stock-still in the center of the stage as the lights and the music moved around her. She slowly raised the microphone to her lips. 

_It’s hard to know who to trust in this day and age_

Adora couldn’t really focus on the words, because as soon as she started singing, Catra broke into dance. It seemed like a pretty complicated routine, with lots of side-to-side movements, and a surprising amount of saluting. Adora glanced at the crowd, only to have her quick look turn into a gape of wonder. A significant amount of people had formed a space in the center, mirroring Catra’s movements.

_Do you have what it takes_  
_Will you hold when I break_  
_Bring me peace when I ache_  
_Be the real in this fake_

_Will you be my be my be my be my_

_Be my Force Captain_

Adora wasn’t sure what a Force Captain was, but she felt a sudden desire to be one. Or at least to learn the dance routine.

Catra’s set continued. She danced across the stage effortlessly, her voice soaring through complex melodies without missing a note. Adora was awestruck. She’d never really listened to pop music, but this was…this was incredible. Catra exuded confidence; if she felt pressure from the thousands of people watching, it didn’t show. Adora imagined trying to do her job with a bunch of onlookers, and involuntarily shuddered. She shook her head. _Incredible._

Though the first couple songs were fast-paced dance hits, soon Catra switched it up, delving into what sounded more like an 80s power ballad.

_We're on the edge of greatness  
Turning darkness to light_

Adora was glad she didn’t really have any bodyguard duties during this concert. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to concentrate on them. Her focus belonged entirely to Catra.

_We must be strong  
And we must be brave_

Catra was a fantastic performer, Adora mused, for the same reason that she was an inconvenient person to bodyguard. She _demanded_ attention. It wasn’t just the eyes, or the ears, or the tail (though those certainly didn’t hurt). It was her…everything. Her confident demeanor; her graceful movements; her beautiful singing; her mischievous grin; her sharp teeth that poked out of her mouth sometimes when she smiled; her lips—

_We must be strong!_

The end of the song snapped Adora out of her reverie. She blushed, glad that there was no one backstage to witness her. She really had to get a handle on these unprofessional feelings.

Oblivious to her bodyguard’s inner turmoil, Catra launched into her next song. This one, from what Adora could glean from the lyrics, was about Catra’s rise to fame.

_I come in with the heat that could melt a glacier  
watch this cat chase the spotlight like it’s a laser_

…

The set ended before Adora was ready for it to be over. The groans of the crowd told her that she wasn’t the only one. Catra bounded offstage towards Adora.

“Catra, that was incredible!” Adora exclaimed.

Catra beamed, careening to a stop in front of her bodyguard. “You think so?” 

Adora nodded emphatically. The crowd’s general noises of discontent morphed into a cohesive chant. “One more song! One more song! One more song!”

Scratching her head, Catra looked back at the stage, hesitation clearly evident on her face.

“What do you think?” asked Adora.

“I mean, I don’t want to leave them wanting. But that was my set. Shadow Weaver is super strict about not doing anything unplanned, and I don’t really have any other songs anyway. Not ones they would know.” She sighed. The chants grew louder. Suddenly, her head perked up. “Actually, you know what?” Before Adora could respond, she ran back onto the stage. The crowd roared in response.

Catra grabbed the microphone. “So, I don’t usually do encores.” The mass of people somehow got even louder. Adora smirked; Catra had them in the palm of her hand. “But I really appreciate you guys turning out tonight. I know that when you bought tickets for this festival, you thought you were going to see Ariana Grande, not me. And you guys have been more than welcoming to me. I’m very thankful.” As the crowd cheered, she turned to say something to a sound tech. She wasn’t speaking into the mic, so Adora only heard a snippet – something about finding a karaoke version? “But I know, deep down, you all wanted a chance to dance to this song. So let’s do it.” She gestured to the sound tech, and soon the familiar notes of a song Adora _knew_ Glimmer had shown her started playing.

_Breakfast at Tiffany's and bottles of bubbles_  
_Girls with tattoos who like getting in trouble_  


The crowd was nearly beside themselves with excitement, yelling along to the words and dancing as best they could given how tightly packed they were. Catra strutted across the stage as she sang; Adora couldn’t take her eyes off her. 

_I want it, I got it, I want it, I got it  
I want it, I got it, I want it, I got it_

Catra’s roaming brought her to Adora’s side of the stage, and the pop star met her eyes briefly, a smirk flashing across her face as she sang the lines. Adora’s knees felt weak.

_You like my tail? Gee thanks, don’t touch it_  
_I see it, I like it, I want it, I got it_  


By the time the song was over, Adora was having serious doubts about her professional integrity.

The crowd’s cheering rose from thunderous to downright deafening as Catra took a bow. The pop star reveled in the noise for a moment, raising her hands above her head and closing her eyes. Then, with a final wave, she ran across the stage towards Adora. Adora’s smile quickly turned to panic as she realized Catra didn’t intend on stopping.

“Adora! Did you see that?!!” Catra launched herself into the air, throwing her arms around Adora’s neck. All thoughts of professionalism scattered to the wind, Adora embraced her client.

“That was amazing, Catra,” she said. “I’ve never seen anything like it. That was incredible.”

“You think so?”

Adora tightened her hold. “I know so. Just listen to them.”

Catra lingered in the hug for a long moment before finally pulling back, a wide smile on her face. “Adora,” she began. “When you were—”

Harsh footsteps from behind Adora cut her off. When Catra looked at their source, her face paled. “Ms. Weav—”

“ _What_ were you thinking?”

“I was thinking I would put on a great show for these people,” replied Catra, defensive. “Did you hear how loud they were cheering? They loved it!”

Ms. Weaver ignored her. “One,” she said, her voice flat and quick, “You performed an encore without permission. I created your set list with a specific intent. Every song is in a specific place. Not only that, but the venue wasn’t planning on you doing an encore. These decisions need to be made ahead of time, not in the moment.” Catra opened her mouth to protest, but Ms. Weaver silenced her with a wave of her hand. “I am _not_ finished.” Her voice reverberated with barely contained fury. “Two. You performed a cover song without permission. If the venue didn’t have the proper forms in, we could’ve had a lawsuit on our hands. Three. You performed a cover song as the last song of your set. Do you want that to be people’s last memory of your concert? We are trying to make a mark on this industry, on this _world_ , and you would throw that all away for some cheap applause.” She slammed a fist against the side of the stage, nearly decapitating a nearby sound tech. “I am beyond disappointed. Now come with me. We are going back to the hotel."

…

The walk back had been silent and tense, despite the enduring noise from the crowd. Even though the festival had officially ended, it sounded like it would be a while before the party stopped. Catra kept her head down as they walked back, but every so often her tail would swish back and forth at a stray cheer.

When they got back to the room, she flopped onto the bed. “Ugh! She makes me so angry!” At Adora’s sympathetic look, she continued. “The crowd loved the show, and they loved the cover! It’s just _her_ who can’t be pleased by _anything_ I do!”

Adora sat down next to her on the bed, putting a comforting hand on her back. “The show was unbelievably good, Catra. I’m sure Ms. Weaver will come around. She just has really high standards for you.”

“She better.” Catra sighed. “Well, whatever! I feel so good right now, even Shadow Weaver can’t bring me down.” She jumped up, seemingly revitalized. “Let’s go out there! Seeing the fans literally always makes me feel better. And I want to photobomb as many people as I can."

Adora laughed, following her client to the door. _Going out to take some pics with fans_ , she messaged Ms. Weaver as they descended in the hotel elevator.

Her phone buzzed as soon as she put it back in her pocket. _Absolutely not. Too much of a security risk – who knows what kind of people came to this festival, and what kind of drunken nonsense they’ll attempt? Return to the room immediately._

“Uh, Catra?”

“What is it, dearest bodyguard?” Catra leaned against the wall of the elevator, nonchalant.

“I think Ms. Weaver wants us to go back to the room. She says it’s not safe to go out there.”

Catra laughed. “Shadow Weaver doesn’t think anything is safe. Relax! What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

Adora felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. “She, uh, does know.”

Catra stared at her for a moment. “What do you mean?” The door opened to the lobby, but neither of them moved.

“I told her.”

Catra blinked twice. “Like just now?” Adora held up her phone. Catra’s eyes widened. Before Adora could react, she snatched the phone from her bodyguard’s grip. Her face turned into a scowl as she scrolled through the messages. “So you’ve been doing this the whole day, huh?” Her tone was dangerously calm.

“Catra, I—” 

“So everything I do or don’t do is decided by Shadow Weaver. Through you.”

“Catra—”

“You _saw_ how horrible she is. You just saw it! You saw how much shit she makes me deal with to match up to her impossible standards and now you’re just…helping her!” Adora saw the beginnings of tears in Catra’s eyes.

“Catra, I’m sorry. I didn’t think that—”

“No, I’m sorry. I forgot, for a moment, that you’re just another tool for Shadow Weaver to control me with.” Catra glared at her. “It won’t happen again.” She punched their floor number, and the doors closed again. She crossed her arms, staring straight in front of her.

It was the longest elevator ride of Adora’s life.

On the way back to the room, she tried to say something. Anything. To apologize -- but how could she apologize for doing her job? But if she had just been doing her job, why did she feel like she had done something wrong? She should say something, she resolved. But every time she looked at Catra, the words died in her mouth.

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air as they readied themselves for bed. Adora changed into her pajamas and slipped under the covers as close to one side of the bed as she could. When she woke up the next morning, her feet were cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :0
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> And then everything came crashing down. Don't worry, though; something tells me the connection between these two is stronger than a minor Shadow-Weaver-related setback ;)
> 
> Anyway, I have good news and bad news. The bad news is that updates are going to slow down for a while. I'm entering a critical period in my academic career / overall life path, and I won't have as much time to work on the story. I'm not going to stop, but there won't be weekly updates like I have been (sort of) doing.
> 
> The good news is that I've figured out the overall plot/conflict of this piece, so at least I know what direction I'm going in, although the specifics of each chapter are still yet to be decided. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has stuck with this fic so far! :) 
> 
> PS I'm always happy to discuss the story or She-ra or anything either here or on my tumblr (flowerdressedtoimpress).


	7. Fashion Genius

Things had been a little tense at Hordak since Princess Fest (or since the ‘7 ringscident,’ as Adora had overheard Lonnie call it in a conversation with Scorpia). Ms. Weaver was upset with Catra, Catra was upset with Ms. Weaver _and_ Adora, and Adora was…Adora was confused.

“I don’t know what to do,” she confided to Bow and Glimmer over brunch one day. Perhaps picking up on the fact that Catra had barely said a word to Adora since the festival, Ms. Weaver had given her the weekend off. She welcomed the reprieve; while Adora was still confident in her ability to protect her client, it had been a lot more fun when Catra was speaking to her. “She hardly even looks at me anymore. But I can’t ignore a request from Ms. Weaver! She’s my boss!”

“I’m still not over the fact that you went to Princess Fest,” grumbled Glimmer, taking a long slurp of her iced coffee. “Bow and I tried so hard to get tickets.”

Bow nodded sadly. “We were ready, too. I had the website up on my computer the day before they went on sale. But by the time we got out of class, they were sold out. If it weren’t for freaking Professor Blossom and his insane no-laptop rule, we could have been there.” He wiped away a fake tear from his eye. Well, Adora was pretty sure it was fake. Bow could get carried away sometimes.

Adora laughed. “It _was_ pretty fun,” she said. “Catra showed me so many cool artists. And I told you I saw Kacey Musgraves, right?”

“Yes, you told me.” Glimmer took the angriest bite of French toast that Adora had ever seen anyone take. “It’s fine, it’s fine. I’m happy for you, really. I just missed out on her last tour, and now this, and—”

Bow put a hand over Glimmer’s. “We’ll see her one day. We have to believe that.” She nodded resolutely. “So, why don’t you just apologize to Catra, Adora? You clearly feel bad about it. She can’t be mad at you for doing your job.”

“Oh, believe me, she can,” said Adora through a mouthful of hash browns. “And she has good reason to! Ms. Weaver controls so much of her life already. And I thought I was just signing on to be a bodyguard, but it seems like I’m also another avenue for her to do that. She has every right to be upset. But I can’t disobey an order from the person who hired me!”

“Still,” said Bow. “You can at least tell her that you’re sorry about the situation. I mean, I don’t know what she’s like. But I think that would help.”

“What _is_ she like?” asked Glimmer. “It’s still so crazy that you’re working for her. I mean, she has her own Wikipedia page and everything. What is she like in person?”

Adora tilted her head thoughtfully, swallowing a rather impressive amount of scrambled eggs before answering. “She’s…she’s really cool, honestly. I mean, she’s _so_ talented. Her singing voice is absolutely incredible. And she’s so confident, too. Going out in front of all those people and performing? I was nervous just being backstage, but she was having the time of her life. But at the same time, she’s not stuck up at all. She’s funny, and really fun to talk to, and she’s actually super nice to me.” Adora grimaced. “Or she was, at least, before I messed it all up.” She was halfway through her next bite of eggs and potatoes before she noticed the amused expressions Bow and Glimmer were giving her. “What?”

They exchanged glances. “Sounds like _someone_ ,” said Bow, a big smile on his face, “has a bit of a crush.”

Adora reddened. “What?! No, I just admire her talent! And I appreciate that she treats me like a person instead of a hireling.”

“Whatever you say,” said Glimmer with a smirk. “She is pretty attractive though, don’t you think?”

Adora glared at her, her face coming closer and closer to the color of the ketchup spread across her food. “I don’t—I mean, yeah, I guess, like, objectively, but—”

Her friends laughed. “Sorry for teasing,” said Bow, not sounding very sorry. “I think it’s cute that you regard your client so highly.”

“I don’t get what her manager is so mad about, anyway,” Glimmer offered, thankfully providing a change in topic. “Someone posted a video of the 7 rings cover and it already has twenty million views. _Ariana Grande_ retweeted it. How is that a bad thing?” 

Adora shook her head. “I don’t know. Catra said that Ms. Weaver has a very particular set of standards. She doesn’t want Catra to be known for cover songs, and there was this thing with licensing – honestly, it’s a little over my head.” She looked at the remnants of Glimmer’s French toast, which the pink-haired girl was pushing around unenthusiastically. “Are you going to finish that?”

“All yours.” Glimmer pushed her plate across the table. “Well, I wish we had better advice. It sounds like you’re in a bit of a bind.”

“I still think you should apologize,” said Bow. “Or maybe buy her some ice cream! It’s hard to stay mad at someone who buys you ice cream.”

Adora snorted. “Did you miss the part where she’s a famous singer who can buy anything she wants?” She doused Glimmer’s plate in syrup. “I just hope she cheers up soon. We’re going to the mall on Friday. Apparently she and Ms. Weaver have this agreement that one Friday a month she gets to go on an excursion.”

“And she wants to go to the mall?” asked Glimmer incredulously.

Adora shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Excuse me?” Their waiter stood next to their table, a slightly queasy expression on his face. “I have an order of the pickled jalapeño grits with garlic?” 

Glimmer nodded, then visibly gagged as the waiter put the plate on the table. “Thank you,” she managed to force out. She pushed it towards Adora.

“Oh my god,” said Bow. “Adora, you do _not_ have to eat that. I mean, I know we got it with the express purpose of making you eat it. But…oh my god. I can smell it from here.”

Adora picked the bowl up, sniffing it cautiously. “Doesn’t seem too bad,” she mused. She dipped her spoon in, chewed tentatively, and swallowed. “Huh. The grits actually balance out a lot of the spiciness really well. Besides,” she said, grinning at the looks of horror on her friends’ faces, “if I back down from one of these challenges, you guys will stop buying me food!”

“Oh, Adora.” Glimmer shook her head. “You really, really, frighten me sometimes.”

…

When she got back to Hordak the next morning, Catra was splayed out on her plush beanbag, lying upside down on her back, her legs hooked over the top of it and her head barely off the ground. Adora snorted. At least some things hadn’t changed. She’d honestly be a little worried if she saw Catra sleeping like a normal person.

Catra opened her left eye briefly, then closed it. “You’re back,” she said matter-of-factly. 

“Yes! Hi!” exclaimed Adora. She put her bag down on one of the stools, then lingered, unsure of what to do next.

“Fun weekend?” asked Catra, eyes still closed. Her voice was rather flat, but she was talking to Adora, so the blonde counted it as a win.

“My life is pretty boring when I’m not at work, to be honest. But I did get to see my friends, which was nice. Bow and Glimmer – I’ve mentioned them to you before.”

Catra grunted. After a few moments, Adora realized no further response would be forthcoming. She shifted her weight from foot to foot.

“Hey,” she began. “Are we—”

“No.” Catra finally opened her eyes to meet Adora's. “We’re not cool, if that’s what you’re asking.” They regarded each other in silence for a few moments. “But,” the pop star continued begrudgingly, “it’s been kind of lonely not talking to anyone. So we’re not…not cool.”

Adora nodded tentatively. “I’ll take it.” She smiled at her client, who rolled her eyes before shutting them again. Adora noticed Catra’s tail flick back and forth, though, and felt a certain warmth bubble up inside her.

…

The week went by quickly. It was less painfully awkward now that Catra was talking to her again, but her client still wasn’t as friendly as she had been when Adora first started. Their conversations were more one-sided, and sometimes Catra would retreat up to her loft, leaving Adora to sit at the counter and twiddle her thumbs, ostensibly ready to fight any intruders who managed to get into the elevator. At least Entrapta had put a couple of games on her Hordak phone.

To alleviate some of the boredom, she had taken to sorting Catra’s fanmail, which Scorpia delivered in a big box (and with an even bigger smile) every couple of days. Generally they fell into two categories – heartfelt messages from younger fans and rather over-the-top love letters from older ones.

“We have a form response that gets sent to anyone who writes,” Catra told her when she asked about it. “I think Scorpia is in charge of it. But when I have time, I like to respond. Especially when they’re from little kids. Sometimes they send me pictures they draw – it’s adorable.”

Soon, Adora discovered a third category: homemade baked goods that they had no way of knowing what ingredients were in and other potentially dangerous gifts. She and Catra argued for fifteen minutes about a set of admittedly impressive Catra-shaped cookies before the pop star agreed not to eat them. (“They look like me, Adora! When am I going to have another chance to eat something that looks like me!”)

Despite these conflicts, Adora felt like her client was warming back up to her throughout the week. The upcoming mall trip helped with that – Catra seemed to be in a better and better mood as Friday grew closer.

“Why do you want to go to the mall so badly, anyway?” Adora asked Thursday night, as the two lay on the floor of the penthouse, watching the last moments of sunlight fade from the sky. “I mean, you’re a celebrity. I would have figured you had your own personal shopper or something like that.”

Catra scoffed. “As if I could trust anyone else to pick out clothes for me. No one takes tails into consideration! But honestly, it’s less about buying clothes and more just kind of fun to pretend to be a normal person for a bit. To just walk around, look through stores, eat from a food court…normal teen stuff.” She glanced over at Adora. “I’m guessing they didn’t really do mall trips at military school?”

Adora chuckled. “No, not really. But I’ve been with Bow and Glimmer a few times. I don’t really like shopping, though. I’m pretty basic with the clothes I wear.”

“I hadn’t noticed.” Catra smirked, then shrieked as Adora leaned over and shoved her playfully. “Bodyguard! Bodyguard! I’m being attacked!” They pushed back and forth for a few moments before agreeing to a wordless truce, laughing and lying back down, their shoulders barely brushing against each other’s. “Well, we’ll have to change that. I happen to be a bit of a fashion genius, you know.”

“Really,” said Adora. Catra stuck her tongue out. “I guess I’ll have to see this genius in action, then.”

…

Fashion genius, Adora discovered, involved Adora carrying a _lot_ of clothes around. Every time she thought her client had finished picking out things for them to try on, Catra would pile on one more cute top, skirt, jumpsuit, or other item onto her outstretched arms. By the time they reached the fitting room, Adora could barely see over the garments.

“In here,” Catra directed her. The pop star was in her trademark incognito outfit, wide-legged jeans hiding her tail and a beanie and sunglasses covering her more remarkable facial features. Ms. Weaver had sighed when she saw the singer’s garb, but simply told them that the driver would pick them up at 10 precisely, and not to be late. While Adora thought Catra still looked pretty eye-catching, so far no one had recognized her.

With a grunt, Adora deposited the clothes on the small bench inside the booth. When she looked up, Catra had already taken her hat and sunglasses off, and was starting to remove her shirt.

“H-Hey!” sputtered Adora.

Catra paused with her shirt halfway over her head. “What? I’m not gonna put them on over my clothes.” She continued her movement, and Adora turned around to look at the door, only to find to her alarm a full-length mirror hanging from it. Her eyes met Catra’s in the reflection and her face rapidly reddened. She turned sharply and concentrated very hard on the corner of the room. Catra laughed. “I have a bra on, you know. I’m not getting naked in a department store.”

“That’s still not – I’m not – I’m going to wait outside,” rushed Adora. She slipped out quickly and collapsed with relief onto one of the chairs in the waiting area.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” Catra’s voice, tinged with amusement, lofted over the door. “I guess I’ll have to model each outfit individually.”

Despite her reservations about voyeurism, Adora found herself actually quite enjoying the experience. Catra would come out every couple of minutes or so with a new look – sometimes long, elegant dresses, other times sensible combinations of shirts and skirts or pants, and once, memorably, a dark crimson suit with an untied bowtie.

“What do you think?” Catra said with a twirl. “Kinda my style, don’t you think?”

Adora nodded emphatically and gulped. Why was her mouth so dry?

Finally, Catra came out back in her jeans and beanie, carrying most of the clothes in her arms. “Well, that was fun. I’m gonna go put these back real quick.”

“You’re not going to get anything?” asked Adora incredulously.

Catra shrugged. “There were a couple tops I liked, I think I’ll get those. But the real fun is just trying everything on.”

“You should get the suit,” Adora blurted out. She flushed. “I mean, if you want to.”

Catra gazed back at her. “You think?” she asked, a certain shyness in her tone that Adora wasn’t used to.

“Yeah,” Adora said. “I do.”

Maybe it was a trick of the light, but Catra’s face looked a little pinker than usual. “Okay,” she said. A grin spread across her face. “I did look pretty killer in it, didn’t I. And awards season is right around the corner.”

When Catra returned after dumping her massive pile in the return section, holding the relatively small selection of purchases under her arm, Adora stood up, ready to move on to their next destination. They had less than an hour left before Ms. Weaver’s deadline. But Catra wagged a finger at her.

“Not so fast, hotshot. You haven’t tried anything on yet! I know you’re all about plain, functional looks, but I left a couple outfit options in there I think you might like. If wearing more than two colors at once doesn’t short-circuit your brain, that is.”

“Ha ha.” Adora rolled her eyes. “I don’t know if that’s the best idea, though. I mean, what if something happens?”

“Oh my godddd,” groaned Catra. “I’ll be like ten feet away from you. I’ll be sure to scream if anyone tries to kidnap me.” Seeing Adora hesitate, she stepped forward, a smirk on her face and a hint of challenge in her voice. “I can always just go inside with you if you’re worried.”

Adora fought the redness in her cheeks that seemed to be a persistent factor of this mall trip. Separating herself from her client even in this seemingly minuscule way went against a lot of her bodyguard instincts, but she knew saying so would bring all the tension that had been slowly ebbing from their relationship right back to the forefront. She huffed. “I guess you’ll be fine waiting outside, then.” Catra plopped herself down on the chair and Adora entered the room.

While Adora didn’t doubt Catra’s fashion acumen, she was still surprised by how much she liked the pop star’s suggestions. The outfits Catra left in the room were more reserved than the ones she had modeled for Adora. Swiveling in front of the mirror, she admired the designs on an elegant, and ridiculously soft, black sweater that fit her almost perfectly. She turned around to examine the price tag.

Oof.

Still, though. As Catra said, it was fun just to try things on. She pushed the door open. “Well? I mean, it’s three times as expensive as it should be, but I actually really like it.”

No response came. The chair was empty, the clothes Catra wanted to purchase lying next to it.

“Catra?” Adora looked right and left. Nothing but a rather bored looking employee glued to his phone. She walked over to him. “Hey, did you see the girl I was with – did she go anywhere?”

“Huh?” He looked up. “I didn’t see anything, sorry.”

“Ugh!” Adora stomped her foot, causing the employee to jump. She walked past him, breaking into a run as she scanned the floor. There were a decent amount of people in the store, but she didn’t see Catra’s bushy hair or purple beanie. As she ran out of the store, the alarm started blaring. Crap – she hadn’t taken the sweater off. “Sorry!” she yelled at the workers who had started peering over in curiosity. “I’ll come back, I promise!” 

Adora ran towards the escalators, panic building within her. The mall was humongous – looking out across it, there were dozens of routes that someone could take to exit, dozens of stores they could lose her in. “Catra?” she shouted, receiving only a few confused looks in response. “Think, Adora,” she muttered to herself. She hadn’t heard any signs of a struggle. And famous as Catra was, it’s not like anyone knew they were going to this mall. The most likely scenario was that Catra just left of her own accord. But why would she do something like that? And where would she go?

Just then, she heard a familiar voice carry across from the other side of the mall. Adora’s head shot up. Catra’s bushy hair bobbed up and down – it looked like she was talking to someone.

Relief flooded her, but anger quickly replaced it. Adora stalked over around the perimeter of the mall, her frown deepening. Catra _knew_ she wasn’t supposed to do things like this. Which probably supplied to motivation for her to do so.

Catra’s sunglasses and beanie were off, and she had her arm around a visibly emotional adolescent. They were posing for a picture, Adora realized, seeing an older woman holding up her phone to capture the moment. As she grew closer, she could make out the words of their conversation.

“Yeah, I love bubble tea! Taro’s my favorite flavor, what’s yours?”

“I love taro too!” the girl squeaked, a huge smile across her face. 

Catra grinned. “I knew you had good taste. I mean, you like my music, after all.”

The girl and the older woman, who Adora assumed was her mom, broke into laughter. “I seriously can’t believe I met you. My friends are gonna go crazy. We’re like your biggest fans. I can’t believe you’re just at a mall! Do you come here often? Doesn’t it get crazy?”

Catra chuckled. “Not often, but when I get the chance. And believe it or not, you’re the first person to see through my disguise today.” She slipped her beanie back on. “Now, it’s been lovely to meet you, Rebecca, but I think I see my bodyguard standing over there, and she doesn’t look happy. So I’ll have to say goodbye for now, but I hope we’ll meet again someday.”

The girl, apparently named Rebecca, nodded vigorously. “I’ll be at your next show! Right mom? Please?”

The mom patted her head. “We’ll see, honey.” She sent an appreciative look at Catra. “Thank you for your time, dear.” The two walked away, Rebecca turning back to look at Catra every few seconds as if to confirm that she really met her.

Catra turned towards Adora, taking a long sip of a purple drink in her hand. “Nice sweater. Want some bubble tea?” she asked. Adora glared at her, wordless. Catra at least had the grace to look a little remorseful. “I’m sorry, okay? I just wanted to get a drink.”

“You could have waited for me. Or, I don’t know, told me where you were going. Instead of just _vanishing_ without a sign.”

Catra rolled her eyes. “What’s the big deal? We’re in a shopping center, for god’s sake, not a warzone. I went to get a drink and got held up when a fan recognized me. It’s not the end of the world.”

Adora folded her arms. “I’m your bodyguard,” she said. “Where you go, I go. Do you know how worried I was when I stepped out of the fitting room and you weren’t there? I thought something happened to you! I ran out – I set the alarm off! You _can’t do_ things like that. Do you understand?”

Now, it was Catra’s turn to glare. “Do _you_ understand how suffocating it is to have to check in with someone when I want to do literally _anything_? I’m nineteen! I can’t even go to the bathroom without you waiting outside!”

“Because that’s my job!” yelled Adora. People were starting to give them odd looks, but she paid them no mind. “It’s literally my job! I’m sorry that me being around you is such a burden, but my job is to keep you safe! Or did you forget what happened a couple weeks ago?”

Catra opened her mouth, then closed it. Her eyes narrowed. “Whatever.” 

Adora felt her stomach turn. This was not how she wanted the day to go. She glanced at her watch. 9:41. “We should go buy the clothes you want,” she said. “It’s almost time to meet the driver.”

Catra nodded curtly and walked past her, head down. They paid for her purchases – Adora put the sweater back, apologizing again to the mostly bemused employees – and waited outside in silence for the car to come.

“Hey.” Catra crossed her arms, not meeting Adora’s eyes. “Are you…going to tell Shadow Weaver? About me…you know.”

Adora turned to look at her, not speaking until Catra matched her gaze. “No,” she said finally. “I should, but I won’t. I know how she is with you.”

“Thank you. I…I appreciate that.” Catra looked like she was going to say something else, but she turned away. 

Despite that, the tension remained on the ride home, Catra staring out the window resolutely as they traveled back to Hordak. Adora felt a mix of emotions run through her. She still felt angry. Catra had manipulated her into letting her guard down and then purposefully ditched her. But she couldn’t help but feel sympathy for her client. Knowing how controlling Ms. Weaver could be, it made sense that Catra would rail against it. She sighed. Bodyguarding wasn’t supposed to be this emotionally charged.

…

The silence continued after they got back to the penthouse and got ready for bed. Adora smiled for a moment as she opened her drawers – she really did have pretty basic clothing. For all her complaints and unruly behavior, Catra paid more attention to Adora then most people did. She turned to look at her client. Catra was brushing her teeth, tilting her head to get the right angle to clean her extraordinarily sharp incisors. Adora felt a rush of softness inside her. She didn’t want to go back to the silent treatment. But, she realized as Catra brushed past her without meeting her eyes, that wasn’t her decision to make.

Adora slipped under her covers with little enthusiasm. She never had much luck finding sleep when her mind wasn’t at peace. After a half hour or so of restlessness, however, she heard a soft thump, and felt a weight at the bottom of her bed.

“Adora?” Catra’s voice sounded tentative. Adora sat up. She could barely see her client in the darkness.

“Yeah?”

“I’m…I’m sorry, for ditching you. I know that wasn’t cool. And I know it’s not your fault that I need a bodyguard, or that I’m not allowed do anything by myself. I just get so frustrated sometimes. And I guess I took it out on you. So…I’m sorry.”

Adora felt the remnants of her anger slip away as if they had never been there. “Thank you,” she said. “And I’m sorry too. I never apologized, for what I did at Princess Fest. I know that really made you upset.”

“You were just doing your job,” replied Catra, a bit too quickly.

Adora shook her head, then realized Catra probably couldn’t see her. “I was. But I still hurt you. And I felt like I did my job tonight, without telling Shadow Weaver about your brief adventure.”

“Why didn’t you tell her?” Catra asked hesitantly. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m really grateful. I probably wouldn’t be able to leave this building for a month. But…what changed?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking,” Adora said slowly. “Shadow Weaver may be the one paying me, but my job is to protect _you_. And, not to brag, but I’m a good bodyguard, and I can do that without reporting to her on your every activity. So in situations like this, where she’s not going to find out unless I tell her, I’m okay making the judgment call that it’s not information she needs to know.”

Catra didn’t respond for a moment. Then, a solid blur flashed in front of her. There was suddenly a body pressed against hers, and two arms wrapped around her tightly.

“Thank you,” whispered Catra. Adora raised her arms and returned the embrace. They stayed like that for a long moment. Adora’s cheek brushed against Catra’s, and she was surprised to find that it was more than a little damp. “Sorry,” Catra murmured. “I just…” Adora squeezed harder.

Finally, Catra pulled back. By now Adora’s eyes had adjusted more to the dark, and she could see most of her client’s features in front of her. “How’s this,” Adora offered. “I’ll promise to give you more leeway when I can and not automatically report everything to Shadow Weaver, and you promise me not to ditch me again.”

Catra nodded. “Deal,” she said. Still essentially in Adora’s lap, she made no move to leave from her position. “I guess I’ll, uh, go back to my loft now.”

“You don’t have to.” The words were out of Adora’s mouth before she realized it. She was having an impulsive day. “I mean, if you don’t want to. I mean – you can sleep wherever you want. Um. I’m just going to shut my mouth now.”

Catra giggled. “You’re ridiculous.” She slid backwards, and for a second Adora thought that she indeed intended to climb the stairs back to her own bed. Instead, the pop star curled into a ball in next to Adora’s legs. “Move around as much as you want to,” she told Adora. “I’ll adjust.” Adora slid back underneath the covers, and Catra maneuvered herself into the crook of her legs. “Goodnight Adora.”

Adora smiled to herself. “Goodnight Catra.” In no time at all, she was fast asleep.

…

When Adora woke up the next morning, Catra was snoring softly, her chest moving up and down steadily. She had migrated slightly upwards, sprawling sideways across the bed, her head buried in the blanket next to Adora’s torso.

If she wasn’t careful, Adora could get used to waking up like this.

She sat up, gently pulling her legs out from underneath Catra. Military school and bodyguarding didn’t really allow for lingering in bed long after waking, and Adora had firmly ingrained those instincts. Walking gingerly across the apartment – her legs had fallen asleep beneath her client’s body – she gazed out at the city under the newly risen sun before turning to the kitchen table. With all the excitement about the mall trip, she hadn’t had the chance to go through the box of fanmail Scorpia delivered yesterday.

Grabbing a yogurt from the fridge, she sifted through the pile casually. Most seemed pretty innocuous letters, though one came in a bright red envelope sealed with a lipstick kiss. Adora snorted. What could the letter writer possibly hope to gain from such a display of affection? She put it aside and delved further into the box. Near the bottom, however, she felt a rather thick envelope, which she pulled out to examine.

The letter had no return address, which was pretty unusual. Most people wrote to Catra with at least the hope of a response. She pried the flap open with her finger and peered inside at the contents curiously.

Uh oh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive! Sorry it's been such a long time since the last update. It's been a hectic past few months, but I made it through - I try not to go into very much personal detail online, but just know that a major milestone has been achieved :)
> 
> Anyway, I hope you like how this story is progressing! Yes, the suit is Catra's princess prom outfit -- I couldn't resist. I'll be away for the next two weeks, but once I get back I will be hard at work on chapter 8. And as always, I'm happy to discuss details about this story here or on tumblr (or if you like yugioh lmao): flowerdressedtoimpress.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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